


14,000,605 Pieces of a Soul

by CookieCloud



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt Stephen Strange, Kinda, M/M, Magical Bond, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, not wanda maximoff friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 57,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25034737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCloud/pseuds/CookieCloud
Summary: After the Snap has been reversed (and everyone survived), Tony's life isn't working out as planned. Things with Pepper are not going well and the Avengers are still split up. Also there is the small problem of Tony's judgement being clouded by the effect of Wanda's mind spell.At the same time, Stephen is struggling to come to terms with all of the futures he experienced in the time stone. And that's already without the spiritual effects they've had on him. But maybe, they can help each other.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 66
Kudos: 310





	14,000,605 Pieces of a Soul

**Author's Note:**

> OMG I am excited. This is my first fan fiction and it has taken me forever to finish. It's not betaed, any mistakes are mine.  
> I hope the characters aren't OOC and you enjoy this fan-fiction!  
> (If you spot any mistakes or have constructive criticism, feel free to let me know :) )

Tony chokes, gasping as Thanos’ hand clenches around his throat. His eyes are frantically moving everywhere but at the man who literally holds Tony’s life in his hands. He's looking for someone, anyone who could help him. His eyes lock onto the kid who stares at him with tears in his frightened, wide eyes. Peter’s hand desperately reaches out for him as his body slowly dissipates into dust, being carried further away from him by the wind.

He hears a yell erupt from the Star guy, Quill, while he's jumping towards them, Tony's blade in his hand and aiming at Thanos skull. Just before he can lodge it into his head, Quill’s replaced by dust floating down while the sound of the blade uselessly clattering to the ground rings in Tony's ears.

In one last, desperate sweep Tony's eyes find Stephen. There is something in his eyes that Tony distinctly recognizes as fear. The whispered words from the sorcerer are so quiet, Tony barely hears them: "I'm sorry." Then the sorcerer too is gone in a breath of ash, his eyes holding on to Tony's for as long as he can. Tony wants to shout at him, 'You swore. You swore to protect the Time Stone. Don't just leave!' Instead Tony closes his eyes. There is nothing left for him to see. Tony stops struggling against Thanos, knowing that nobody is left that can help him.

Thanos' deep voice is the only thing that still surrounds him. "You're all alone now."

Tony startles awake, desperately drawing in air as he bolts upright in his bed. He can feel the sweat running down his back, his heart racing painfully in his chest as his clammy hands scramble for purchase, searching for something, _someone_ to hold on to. But his hands are only met with empty bedsheets. Tony looks around and panics even more when he takes in the empty room. He dives out of his bed, getting caught up in the sheets he’s tangled in, and it causes him to fall to the ground, head connecting painfully with the floor. He scrambles up to his feet, unable to suck air into his lungs as he lunges forward to the stairs. He sprints down three steps at a time, repeatedly almost losing his balance, and when he arrives at the bottom he wheezes, "Friday, lights!"

There’s a groan from the couch as a figure moves, her arm moving over her eyes to protect them from the sudden onslaught of brightness. Tony launches towards her, falling to his knees in front of the couch, holding back the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. "Tony," Pepper groans, her voice laced with sleep and annoyance. The dark circles under her eyes speak of the many sleepless nights she’s already spent calming him down. "Not again."

Tony holds one finger up in her direction, finally catching his breath. "Pep, just give me a moment," he presses out between gasps. Pepper rolls over, obviously annoyed, while looking at him with pity. It makes Tony's skin crawl uncomfortably.

As soon as his breathing is back to normal, Pepper says tiredly, "Go back to bed Tony. Lights off." As Friday kills the lights in the living room, Tony's breath hitches a little. He watches Pepper turn around so he faces her back again and sits on the floor for a while, uncertain what to do. Obviously, Pepper isn’t going to make room for him on the couch, but Tony also doesn’t want to go back to bed alone. He knows it will only be a matter of time until he wakes up from another nightmare. From the corner of his eyes he can see the steps down to his workshop dimly illuminated by the lights in the wall, despite Pepper’s order to turn the lights out, and it almost feels like Friday is offering him a way out.

Tony gets up quietly and heads down the stairs, and once he enters his familiar workshop, he does what he does best: he tinkers. He improves Peter's suit, mingles around with the nanotechnology of his own suit. He doesn’t come out for days at a time, hiding away in his workshop, avoiding sleep.

It feels like New York all over again. He doesn’t go out. He tries to come up with an idea of how to prevent something like this from happening ever again. More often than not, the ideas he comes up with remind him of Ultron, and it makes his blood run cold every time. When he does fall asleep, he dreams of failing. He dreams of dying by himself.

Only unlike after New York, there’s no one left to pull him out. Pepper isn’t sympathetic anymore but annoyed, even a little bit resentful. Above all, she’s probably tired of it. The Rogues and Tony still haven't talked to each other since they managed to beat Thanos and he isn’t exactly sure whether seeing them would make it all better or worse. Bruce has stayed in Wakanda with the Rogues, trying to find out how to make the Hulk come out again. According to him, Shuri, T’Challa’s sister, is a genius and they’re working on it together with the help of Wakanda’s technology. Tony is disappointed. It feels like his technology isn’t enough anymore. Or maybe it’s just that no one trusts him with it after Ultron. Thor is trying to settle his people, or those who are left, somewhere in Norway. Vision and Wanda are seemingly inseparable and as much as he longs to see Viz, he doesn’t want to run into the Scarlet Witch. She is still the reason he resents magic. To be honest, it actually scares him. He doesn’t know any way to protect himself against it.

That’s also the reason he hasn’t seen the sorcerer since everyone came back. That and he’s the one who put them through this. Who put _him_ through this. In 14 million futures, there must have been another way, right? Other than that, Tony doesn’t really know what to think of the man. Magic just makes him uncomfortable, extremely so. And having seen the way he fought on Titan, he hopes he will never have to face Strange in battle.

Peter has started taking classes at university, certainly bright enough to pull it off alongside finishing school. Next to that and being the ‘friendly neighborhood spider‘, there isn’t much time left. Also, Tony does not want Peter to see him like this. The Guardians who’d fought side by side with him on Titan didn’t stay on Earth for long. Tony actually has no idea where they are now. The only one who still comes by regularly is Rhodey. Every visit is enjoyed and appreciated but seeing the braces on his legs still makes Tony blame himself. It feels like he’d needlessly dragged Rhodey into that fight, trying to protect friends that hadn’t actually given a damn about him.

All in all, it feels like New York again. Only worse. Being a hero feels lonelier than ever.

***

'Boss.'

Tony is tinkering with Peter’s suit again, finally satisfied with his progress in making it bulletproof and fireproof. Currently Tony is trying to magic-proof it, which is quite difficult considering how little he knows about magic.

"Huh?" Tony perks up, realizing that Friday has been trying to get his attention for a while now.

'Boss, you haven't eaten in 37 hours. Shall I order something?'

Tony huffs. He doesn’t want a repeat of emptying the contents of his stomach after his last nightmare, but he knows that he should actually eat something. "No, I'll just get something from upstairs," Tony replies before closing the files of magic users he’d been studying and going to the next floor.

As he enters the living room, he sees Pepper sitting on the couch, fiddling with something in her hands, packed suitcases next to her. Tony halts, looking at her with a sinking feeling in his stomach. When he slowly makes his way over to her, she looks up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Pep, what's wrong?" he asks, quickening his steps towards her.

Before he actually makes it to her though, Pepper stands up, carefully placing the object she’d been holding on the coffee table in front of her. Tony freezes and stares in shock as the ring he gave Pepper spins twice on the glass surface. When it finally lays still, he looks back up at her, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "This," Pepper says sounding small. Tony's mouth opens and closes a few times, but he doesn’t know what to say. "This, us. Tony, it feels wrong. I can’t do this anymore," Pepper whispers.

"Why?" Tony asks, choking on that single word alone. He desperately needs to understand so he can convince Pepper that she’s wrong. 'I can't lose her too,' Tony thinks.

Pepper takes a deep breath. "Because this," Pepper gestures at him and the stairs to the workshop below them, "is never going to stop." Tony clenches his fists and opens his mouth but Pepper cuts him off. "After Killian and after the operation, I really thought this would stop. I really thought that you would be done with this, but you are never going to stop, Tony. You just keep making suits and keep running off and..." A sob escapes her. "It's just too much Tony."

"Pepper, please..." Tony starts to beg but Pepper shakes her head, tears now silently streaming down her face, and cuts in, "I can't, Tony. I can't keep watching you risk your life. I can't keep sitting here praying for you to come back alive."

"But Pepper, I can change. Baby, I'll stop with all of it, just please don't go." Tears are threating to spill from his eyes when his arms reach out for her.

She takes a step back, visibly steeling herself against the vulnerable expression from Tony. "Every time you come back you just change that little bit more. I never know who is going to come back next time. But I also know that you can't stop. And it's okay, Tony. Just not for me." Pepper tries to steady herself with a deep breath before continuing, "I love you, Tony, I do. But every time you come back, you're a little less _Tony_ and a little more _Iron Man_."

Tony's brows knit together. "But this is still me. I know I'm a bit shaken right now, but this is all still me. Just Tony." Tony tries to put a reassuring smile on his face, however when Pepper just shakes her head again, it falls away immediately.

"No, Tony. The man I love... He slips away a bit more each time. And I can't do this. I can't watch how you keep destroying yourself." Pepper stares solemnly at the ring on the table. When she looks up at him again, there is a sad smile on her face. Tony swallows. He doesn’t know what to reply to that. When he finally opens his mouth to speak, he’s startled by the sound of the front door clicking shut and realizes that Pepper has already left.

The nightmares get worse after Pepper is gone, but Tony doesn’t try to get her back. It’s ironic really, after everything that’s happened - only when Tony should be fighting for his own life, his _own_ happiness, there’s no fight left in him. With Pepper gone, he tries to find comfort in his old coping habits, still all the tinkering and all the drinking in the world can’t ease the pain he feels. His nightmares switch from New York to Wanda's vision to Ultron to Pepper leaving to Thanos to Siberia and back to a cave in Afghanistan. It takes everything Tony has left out of him.

***

He can’t breathe. His heart beats too quickly, hammering against his chest from the inside. Not again. Please, not again.

'Boss. You are experiencing an anxiety attack.'

Well, no shit. Tony stumbles forward, feeling claustrophobic in his suit. "I just need..." Something to hold onto, he thinks. " _Someone_ ,” he wheezes through the tightness constricting his chest.

'Understood,' comes Friday's reply. The thrusters in his suit start up as his AI takes control of it. "No," Tony objects quietly, still fighting for breath and barely capable of uttering that single word.

'Changing destination,' Friday chirps, the suit whirling him around in the air. He can see the path change from Wakanda to Queens. "No," he gasps again, hoping that Friday gets what he can’t say at the moment. He can just see the destination being changed again before there is a rushing sound in his ears and black starts to creep in from the edges of his vision.

When he consciously takes in his surroundings again, he can feel his arm being moved by the armor, knocking on a massive wooden door. When the door opens, Friday peels the armor away from around him and back into the container on his chest.

Tony stumbles forward, right into the chest of a sorcerer, who grabs his arms firmly to steady him. When Tony looks up at Strange’s face he’s met with a raised eyebrow. Although Tony doesn’t exactly want to admit it, seeing Stephen helps him come back to himself. He’s here. He’s not dead. He’s not a pile of ash on another planet.

Tony starts to right himself, noticing how Stephen tugs lightly at his arms to help him to an upright position. When he starts to lose his balance nevertheless, he hears Stephen ask, "Are you drunk?" Then everything goes black.

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is the scent of tea and wood, which smells old although not in a negative way. Then he notices the silence, which is only interrupted by breathing. A sound which isn’t his own. At the realization Tony's eyes snap open and he quickly takes in his surroundings.

He recognizes it as the Sanctum where Strange and Bruce had taken him to discuss Thanos and the Infinity Stones. Tony is sitting in a big armchair, surrounded by various glass cases that contain presumably some magic mumbo-jumbo. On a small table next to him sits a cup of tea. Strange has taken seat not too far from him, perched over a book.

"What did you do to me?" Tony asks accusingly. The other man looks up and raises an eyebrow at him, staying silent. Tony gets up and stalks over, looming over the sorcerer. "How did I get here? And why did you bring me here?" Tony builds himself up to his full height, trying to intimidate the man into an answer.

Stephen makes a sweeping motion and a glass of water appears on the table next to the book he’s reading. "Drink some water and sober up. It’ll help with your memory," he says dryly, focusing back on the book in front of him.

Tony furrows his brow when the memory of his unpleasant arrival at the Sanctum comes back to him. "My memory is fine, Gandalf," he snaps. "And I remember passing out at your front door, not here," he continues gesturing around the room. Noticing that the other man's only point of interest still seems to be the page in front of him, he adds, "How did I get here?"

Stephen looks up at him with mischief in his eyes. "Magic," he states with a wry smile. A cold shiver runs down Tony's back at the implication.

Before Tony can add anything though, Wong comes into the room. "Have you found it?" he asks.

Stephen takes one last look at his book before he gets up. "Yes, I think so." He takes a multi-finger ring from one of his belts and puts it on one hand, stretching that arm out and making a circling motion with the other, causing a portal of orange sparkles to whirl to life.

Before he can step through the portal, Tony blocks his path. "I was still talking to you."

"I actually have a job to do, Stark. Find someone else to help you sober up." With that Stephen steps through the portal and it fizzles closed behind him.

For a moment Tony stares after him incredulously. Then he turns over to Wong. "Is he always such a ray of sunshine? Must be exhausting."

"He's just busy," Wong answers. "You picked a bad time."

"Too many balloon animals to make?"

Wong throws Tony a chastising look before explaining. "Other dimensions are going to be closer than usual to ours from tomorrow on. There’s been a lot of shifting since all the infinity stones were used together. We still don't know how lasting the effects will be, but much is changing in the dimensional constellation."

Tony swallows and tries to suppress the rising panic. Can they just never get a break? "What does that mean?" he asks.

"We don't know yet. There is no telling what changes the events have caused for the mystic arts," Wong replies.

"What are you doing against it if you don't actually know what's happening?" Tony asks curiously, furrowing his brows.

"Reinforce protective runes at the places affected most and prepare for trouble," Wong states neutrally.

"What, that's it?" Tony snaps.

"It worked so well so far that you didn't know of the mystic arts before Thanos," Wong replies calmly. And, well, Tony can’t actually argue with that. When he doesn’t reply immediately, Wong just observes him.

Tony draws his brows together. "Shouldn't you be out drawing fancy Mandalas as well then?"

"Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme. It's his duty as he’s the most powerful sorcerer."

"Wow you really don't split workload huh?" Tony questions sarcastically. It reminds him of the work dynamic of the original Avengers. Everything outside of the missions fell back on him. Designing gear, funding, dealing with the fallout of the destruction they caused.

Wong throws him an annoyed look. "What do you want Stark?" Obviously a difficult topic. "Are you here because of the wedding invitation? We have a postbox."

Tony swallows before he plasters a very cheerful, very fake smile on his face. "No, haven't got a date yet. Just wanted to make sure everything's going smoothly at Hogwarts. Like a superhero neighborhood watch. You seem alright, so I'll be on my way then." Tony pats Wong awkwardly on the shoulder and ignores the glare the sorcerer shoots him in return.

He hops down the stairs and exits the Sanctum quickly. Once out of the magic mansion, he taps the nanobot container on his chest and lets the suit form around him, taking off and flying back home.

"Friday, any news on the death eater front?" Tony swirls around in his chair, sipping on his coffee.

'There have been six more energy signatures that are similar to those of Doctor Strange. No mentions in the news or social media, Boss.'

"Map them out for me, baby girl," Tony says, placing his coffee on the desk and focusing on the holographic map of the world Friday spreads out before him. He’s spent the last five days trying to trace the sorcerers based on the energy signatures of their magic, waiting to be needed.

Apparently, they’re staying true to Wong's word and all their troubles aren’t even noticeable to anyone but themselves, which makes Tony's skin crawl. There’s been thirty-one energy signatures in the span of five days, nevertheless nothing has reached any kind of media. Tony thinks of the destruction the Avengers always left in their wake whenever they engaged, and he can’t help but think that the sorcerers might be much better at this hero-ing business than he ever was.

Where he found Stephen Strange incredibly arrogant before, he now thinks that maybe he deserves to be so arrogant about himself. Tony’s been on high alert for the last days ever since he left the Sanctum, expecting to be needed for help and ready to go at a moment's notice. He actually wishes he would be needed, at least that would give him something to do, only instead he’s waiting in vain.

The energy signatures have been spread all over the globe, all continents, nineteen different countries. Seemingly, there haven’t been any casualties at all, no property damage, no big media scandal. Tony wishes Avengers work could have ever gone that smoothly, and he wonders whether having one or more sorcerers on the new, Accords approved Avengers team that’s in the works might be enough to make them more successful in the future than the old team ever was.

Despite having seen on Titan just what the Sorcerer Supreme can do, he hopes Stephen won't be the one to join them, since he still doesn’t like the guy and blames him for just giving up the time stone to Thanos.

Yet it doesn’t sit right with Tony that nobody even acknowledged Stephen's participation in the fight against Thanos as there was barely any footage of the first encounter in New York and he wasn’t present for the final battle on earth. While Cap and Tony and all other known Avengers or Ex-vengers have gotten almost as much affectionate appreciation by the public as they did after the first battle in New York back in 2012, Stephen hasn’t even been mentioned.

It makes Tony wonder what else the man has done for the world that’s gone completely unnoticed. He can think of thirty-one things in the last five days alone.

Tony waits for another two hours in his lab, still on standby. When no more energy fluctuations appear, he forms a plan: if no one else will mention what the sorcerers do, then at least he’ll check in on them from time to time, starting right now.

Tony grabs his credit card and sunglasses and heads out the door. He takes the car and stops at a Burger shop on the way, getting one of everything, then proceeds to the Sanctum, knocking on the door with three big bags of food in hand. He shifts impatiently from one foot to the other. When no one opens he knocks again, with more force, waiting a few more seconds before he tries to just push the door open.

He’s actually surprised when it does open and steps into the Sanctum that’s unnervingly quiet. “Strange? Wong?” The hall stays silent, so Tony decides to go look further into the mansion, the silence creeping him out. He gets an uneasy feeling in his stomach as he walks through the eerie building without any interruption.

What if something did actually happen to the sorcerers and he didn’t notice? He wanders through the Sanctum carefully on guard while his free hand hovers close to the nanobot container on his chest. When he reaches a long corridor, he follows the smell of sweet tea to an open door, and carefully peers inside, relieved when he sees only Strange in the room, relaxing and stepping in.

Stephen’s sitting at a small table, a cup of tea sitting before him and his elbows perched next to it on either side, head buried in his hands. “Hi doctor wizard,” Tony says cheerfully and sets the bags on the table in front of Strange.

Strange lets out a startled noise and jumps up, his chair clattering to the ground from the rapid motion. He immediately moves into a defensive stance, hands held out before him with two orange shields bursting to life from his fists.

Tony holds his hands up innocently. “Easy there, Tiger,” he soothes in a light tone, easily hiding the way his heart beats a little faster as he eyes the orange discs.

Stephen blinks twice before he slowly relaxes, standing up straight and letting his arms fall back to his sides, shields quickly dissolving. “Stark. What do you want?” he asks, his voice rough.

Tony takes in the appearance of the sorcerer and notices that he looks worse than he did on Titan. There’s blood on his face from multiple gashes scattered around it, dark circles under his eyes standing out against the pale skin and the dried blood. His robes are dirty and torn in several places, revealing more wounds littered across his body. There’s a nasty bruise around his throat, which might be the cause of his strained voice, Tony thinks to himself. Even the red cloak on his shoulders lets its collar hang limply.

“You look like shit,” Tony points out. Stephen just huffs and grabs the chair back up from the ground. It’s barely audible but Tony can still make out the faint hiss of pain that escapes Stephen's lips when he bends over. “I brought some food,” Tony continues, pointing at the bags he’s set on the table.

When Stephen just plops back down on his chair, Tony opts to take it as a positive reaction and starts rummaging around the cupboards of the small kitchen to find some plates. He sets them on the table and empties the contents of the bags onto them, all the while feeling Strange's gaze following him.

For now, Tony chooses to let the sorcerer be and just sits on the chair opposite him, digging into the food, since he hasn’t actually had much more than coffee for the last two days and just notices that he’s famished. He quietly stares at Stephen while he eats, the sorcerer looking right back. When Tony goes for a second burger, Stephen finally drags his eyes away. They linger on the pile of burgers in the middle for a moment, but then he reaches for the fries instead. His movements are slow and Tony feels like Stephen might just fall asleep right at the table if he lets him. He notices now that Stephen's hands are shaking violently and the knuckles are red and swollen, although he doesn’t comment on it.

He read up on the sorcerer after everyone had come back and knows that his hands got wrecked in the car accident that cost him his medical career. He wonders what they feel like and if he could have made something to fix them. He’s actually been thinking about it ever since he read about the man and now that he sees the scarred hands in front of him, plans and prototypes start forming in his head.

“Rough week for Gryffindor?” Tony jokes to ease the tension, making a sweeping motion with his hand that encompasses Stephen. It worries him more than the silence before when Strange lets out a small chuckle.

“You could say that,” Stephen replies and Tony pretends not to notice the wince when the sorcerer speaks or the hand that absentmindedly goes to his throat. Stephen continues to eat fries at a slow pace and struggles to even grab those with his shaking hands. It makes Tony’s blood boil in a way he hadn’t expected but he pushes the feeling back down.

“You could have asked for help,” Tony states steadily, for once not snarky.

Stephen throws him a look. “Can’t have you steal all the glory,” he answers after a few moments have passed and the shadow of a smile ghosts over his features. Tony raises his eyebrows. There he thought he was the only one covering weakness with humor, although he does wonder what glory Stephen is talking about. “Besides, you hate magic. And me. Why would I?” Stephen adds more seriously.

Tony’s taken aback. He hadn’t thought that Stephen had noticed or that he’d even care. No one else ever considered if Tony wanted to do something. They just expected him to.

“That’s not true. I love a little magic. I always work my own magic anyway,” Tony dodges with a sly grin plastered onto his face, and Stephen just throws him another look that says, ‘seriously?’.

Tony decides to change the topic, just a little afraid that Stephen might’ve peeked into his brain at one point or another, but considering how shitty the guy looks right now, Tony decides to bottle that up for another time. “Had a run in with some death eaters?” he asks instead.

Stephen lets out an exasperated sigh. “Would you stop it with the Harry Potter references?”

“Run in with Smaug?” Tony corrects.

Stephen just shakes his head and slumps a little more in his chair, trying to relieve the pressure on a cracked rip. He’d steadied it as well as he could with his magic, but it’d drained him further and the exertion of the last days is threatening to pull him under. He isn’t sure what Stark is doing here and although he knows Tony probably doesn’t like this, Stephen can’t help but enjoy the familiar company. He’s lived through so many futures with the man opposite him and it still pains him to pretend like he doesn’t know him. He tries hard to not let it slip through the fog of tiredness that’s settled over his brain.

When Tony speaks up again, it startles him out of drifting asleep. “Most thrilling conversation I’ve ever had. Wow.” The engineer looks at him with a mix of amusement and worry. “Maybe you should lie down and get some shut eye. Let someone else watch Hogwarts for a few hours.”

“Back to Harry Potter,” Stephen grumbles, but he pushes himself up out of the chair and moves out of the room, the cloak slowly following after its master.

Tony wonders for a moment if it’s possible for a piece of clothing to sleepwalk because it certainly looks like it. He gets up and follows the sorcerer as well, not sure he’ll make it anywhere on his own.

When Stephen stumbles and tips forward, Tony jumps to his side, grabbing his shoulder to steady the taller man. The cloak’s been quicker though, already having wrapped around him and then proceeds to look indignant and swat at Tony’s hands. Tony quickly withdraws and throws the both of them a confused look.

Stephen takes a shaky breath and shrugs lightly, before he says almost apologetically, “It doesn’t like sharing.” He can’t help the very vivid memory of the cloak cuddling him and Tony in their shared bed though, coming to the forefront of his mind. If he hadn’t suffered sustainable blood loss, Stephen is sure a blush would creep onto his cheeks.

Tony ignores the comment and follows Stephen to his room, where Stephen slowly sinks down onto his bed. “I feel like playing doctor, doc,” Tony jokes. “Where’s your disinfectant?”

Stephen sits with closed eyes and Tony has a feeling the cloak’s the only thing still keeping him upright. The cloak though points one of its corners at the desk standing next to the bed, so Tony starts to open the drawers of the desk to look for what he needs. One of them is filled with sheets of paper and a pen, and Tony realizes with a sinking feeling that the words scribbled onto the paper are very shaky attempts at writing the name Stephen Strange.

He glances over to the sorcerer and swallows before he closes the drawer and keeps searching, finding items from a first aid kit in the next drawer. Tony quickly grabs what he needs and places it on the bed next to Strange, pulling a chair over from the desk and sitting in front of him. He gets to work cleaning his face from dirt and dried blood and dabbing disinfectant onto the litany of cuts that adorn Stephen’s face.

Stephen’s so out of it that he doesn’t even flinch, and Tony checks several times that there’s still a pulse at Strange's neck, afraid he might just die on Tony. When he’s done with the head his gaze flickers across the rest of Strange's body, realizing that there’s still blood seeping out of a few wounds on his chest and abdomen, mostly covered by the usually blue but now more muddy brown robes.

“Hey Strange, I think I should take a look at those,” Tony says, mouth suddenly very dry, gesturing vaguely at his chest. “Harry Potter?” he tries again. When there’s still no answer he huffs out a breath and reaches to undress the tunic, muttering to himself, “No. This isn’t awkward at all. Totally normal.”

It takes him almost five minutes until he’s figured out how to get the tunic off the sorcerer and then he repeats the cleaning procedure on the sorcerer’s upper body. He tries not to be bothered by the cloak which seems to watch him intently, collar dipping in the direction of his hands, while keeping the sorcerer upright by his bare shoulders. Once he’s finished cleaning all the wounds, he nods to himself and moves to collect the used supplies, definitely not planning to take care of anything below the waistline while the other man is still unconscious.

A sudden deep voice ringing out from behind him makes Tony jump in horror and he doesn’t at all let out a high-pitched squeak. “I agree, this is extremely awkward, but it’s too late to stop now so while you’re at it you might want to stitch that up.”

Tony whirls around to face the sorcerer, or what looks like a very ghostly, translucent form of him. The man’s pointing somewhere on his own stomach, and Tony has to grab the chair behind him to steady himself as he lowly murmurs, “What the fuck.” A moment of silence passes between the two with both men staring at the other.

Then Tony spurs into action, hurrying over to the Stephen who’s still sitting on the bed, almost throwing him over in the process. “Fuck! Did you seriously just die on me?!” Tony yells with a slightly panicked edge to his voice. He presses his fingers to Stephen's pulse again, which is weak but definitely there.

A deep, resounding chuckle comes from the translucent Stephen and Tony whirls around again just as quickly, face red with anger. “Don’t laugh at this you fucking asshole. You’ve already died on me once; I swear if you try and do that again I’ll kill you myself!” Tony fumes.

At that ghost Stephen quickly sobers. He’s seen Tony die in too many futures to not know what it feels like to lose the other man. “Sorry,” he soothes before explaining. “What you’re seeing is my astral body. I’m not dying, I’m just passed out.”

Tony simply continues to stare at him for a moment. “How long have you been watching?” Tony asks.

“Ever since my eyes closed,” Stephen replies easily.

“Way to creep a guy out Strange,” Tony murmurs. “Thanks for adding invisible people stalking me to my list of things to worry about,” he grumbles.

“Thank you,” astral Stephen says quietly after a moment, the words vibrating around the room and making Tony freeze.

“What?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“Thank you,” Stephen repeats, “for the medical attention.” Tony feels antsy. He can’t remember the last time someone’s actually appreciated something he did, let alone thanked him for it, and when Tony just continues to stare ahead, Stephen sighs warily. “Excuse me, I forgot that you’re not used to gratitude.”

Stephen realizes his slip up the same moment Tony's head snaps up, a glare leveled at the sorcerer. “Okay Merlin, did you rummage through my head or something? Because you should definitely not know all of these things about me!”

Stephen is surprised and a little offended at the implication. “I would never do that without permission,” he snaps back.

“Then how do you know these things?” Tony retorts angrily.

“I saw you in fourteen million six hundred and five futures. How do you think I know you?” Stephen shoots right back. That finally makes Tony stop and take a moment to think, mouth snapping shut. He hadn’t considered everything that the sorcerer had seen and learned on Titan and finds himself wondering how much the other man knows about him.

Stephen’s astral form rubs tiredly at his temple, the very vivid images of more than five million different deaths of the billionaire are swarming his mind again. He regrets the weeks he’s spent without proper sleep to avoid the nightmarish flashbacks to the futures he’d seen while using the Time Stone, instead floating through the Sanctum in his astral form every night. “Can we please save this for another time?” he groans.

Tony nods although his shoulders are drawn tight and his head is almost bursting with questions. “How can I help,” Tony asks after awkward silence has settled between them, gesturing at Stephen's physical form.

“You’ve done enough, thank you,” Stephen replies.

But Tony just stubbornly pushes on. “You wanted me to do something else. What can I do?”

Stephen sighs before answering, “If you don’t mind, stitches on that would be good.” He points at a long wound, deeper than the others that stretches diagonally over half of his belly. Tony nods and gets to work, thankful to have something to do while he ponders what Stephen might know about him.

They work in amicable silence apart from curt but precise instructions from Stephen on what to do as Tony tends to his wounds. When he’s done Tony inspects the man in front of him but doesn’t see anything that’s left unattended. “Anything else?” he asks just to be sure, trusting the doctor's judgement more in this area.

“No,” Stephen's astral form confirms, having floated beside Tony and inspecting himself. “The rest will mend on its own or with the help of healing runes.” Tony nods and fidgets, uncertain what to do. “I should rest now,” Stephen adds with a pointed look.

Tony gets up to his feet. “Yeah sure. Well, sweet dreams doc.” With that Tony turns and leaves the room, a last glance back showing him that Stephen’s astral form has disappeared and the cloak is carefully lowering the unconscious sorcerer down on the bed before draping over him like a blanket. Despite himself Tony can’t help but smile at the sight, the cloak somehow reminds him of his bots.

Just when Tony wonders whether he should leave or stay to look out for Strange, Wong strolls down the corridor, looking up at Tony in surprise for a moment, before nodding at him. He pauses for another moment in front of the doorway to Strange’s room, before he wordlessly starts walking again.

Tony stares at him incredulously. “Are you not going to do anything?” he asks accusingly.

Wong stops and turns, glancing at him. “He needs rest,” he states, then turns back again and keeps walking.

Tony stalks after him, anger flaring. “What he needs is help and a break! The guy was dead on his feet!” He stops in front of Wong, glaring at him, and since Wong is even smaller than Tony, he manages for once to tower over someone. However, it doesn’t seem to impress the man in the slightest.

A small voice inside of Tony tells him that he shouldn’t be defending the arrogant ass. Everything since Thanos was his fault, something whispers in the back of his head, but then he remembers uncertainly checking his pulse several times and the anger flares up brightly again, muting the small voice inside him.

Wong just looks at him for a moment before he answers, “Stephen is stronger than he looks. If he let himself rest, he would be fine.” With those words he turns around and starts walking away from Tony again.

Tony keeps up with him though, glaring at the side of Wong’s stoic face. “He’s resting now but he doesn’t look fucking fine to me. Also, way to let him rest with your letting him do everything on his own because he’s your Supreme wizard or whatever.”

“You should stop speaking of things you don’t understand, Stark,” Wong retorts with just the slightest edge to his voice.

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Tony snaps. “It’s nice to just shove all your issues onto someone else, who…” Wong whirls around and fixes Tony with a deadly stare that manages to shut him up immediately, and Tony has to swallow his nervousness down, hand ready to fly to his chest and activate the suit. How did he end up here, pissing of magicians again? He really doesn’t go well with them, does he?

“He isn’t resting but currently reading in the library. _Again_. And he’s the Sorcerer Supreme because he can wield more powerful magic than anyone else, which is why he has to do some things others cannot. That doesn’t mean he’s the only one working.” Despite the venom Wong’s eyes are spewing, his voice is eerily calm and makes a shiver run down Tony’s spine.

“What do you mean he’s in the library, he wasn’t even able to walk when I left him like two minutes ago,” Tony retorts.

Wong huffs, before he starts moving again, answering over his shoulder, “His body is in his room but Stephen isn’t.”

Tony takes a look back in the direction of Stephen’s room, contemplating for a moment. “So, his ghost is reading?” he asks Wong.

“His astral body is, yes.”

“Which is basically his ghost,” Tony repeats.

He thinks he hears Wong mutter something about annoying Americans under his breath before he replies, “It’s his consciousness separated from his physical form.”

Tony nods at that and takes a few seconds to consider everything before he starts speaking again. “How come he’s your most powerful magic man though, he only stopped being a surgeon two years ago? You must be really good at this if he can already surpass you,” Tony pokes sarcastically, unable to stop the insult slipping from his mouth.

Wong shoots him another glare. “Unique circumstances lead to Stephen attaining this position. Now, if you wouldn’t mind.” Wong’s arm extends towards the door and Tony realizes that they’ve stopped in the entry hall of the Sanctum.

“Well, okay. Just keep in mind, if you want to keep him as your magic grandmaster, you should watch out for him better,” Tony chirps with false cheerfulness before quickly descending the stairs and leaving the sanctum, hearing Wong mutter something else under his breath before the door falls closed behind him.

***

It’s been a week since Tony’s been at the Sanctum, pissing of Wong. In a matter of self-preservation (or so he tells himself) he hasn’t gone back yet, still something in him is itching to make sure that Stephen is alright. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to be anywhere near magic.

He has to admit to himself though that focusing on something else, something other than himself, has helped him get back on track a little, his midnight panics getting less intense and having something to do making him less antsy.

Yesterday, he’s signed on as a member for the new Accords approved Avengers, the ‘New Avengers’. After Thanos he hasn’t actually involved himself much in the negotiations, but some of the people helping in the fight against Thanos have pushed the progress on that. He knows that both Rhodey and Carol Danvers have put a lot of effort into it, Rhodey having updated him on it every time he visited.

He knows that the Rogues have been given the chance to sign on as well since the public is very Pro Captain America again after the whole half of the world disappearing fiasco they helped resolve. Tony’d hesitated to sign on, first waiting who else would be a part of the new team, and couldn’t help but roll his eyes when Steve, Clint, Wanda and T’Challa still refused to sign any document that had ‘Accords’ printed on the front. All other members of the old team and some new ones have signed and are now forming the new Avengers.

He hasn’t had a meeting with them yet but decided to be a part of them because honestly, he couldn’t just stop and as much as he’d told himself he would, he didn’t really want to quit. He knew he was getting too old for all of it but there was nothing else that could grab his focus enough to distract him from his issues and sufficiently keep him busy.

His thoughts drift back to Stephen and the many questions he wants to ask the man, skin crawling with the need to know what the sorcerer had discovered about him in all the possible futures he’d seen. It made him feel uneasy that he’d known something Tony kept so intimately to himself. ‘I forgot that you’re not used to gratitude.’ Tony shivers involuntarily when he remembers the words. He shouldn’t know this. Tony feels like Strange can see straight through him when he barely knows anything about him.

Still, he’s the only sorcerer that Tony trusts enough to not kill him if he asks about magic, so he rubs a hand over his face and decides to pay him another visit. He needs to know more and as uncomfortable as Stephen’s knowledge about Tony might be, he has answers that Tony desperately needs in order to protect Peter.

Tony takes a deep breath before he takes the gloves from his workbench and starts on his plan.

Stephen already knows who’s standing in front of the Sanctum door and waves his hand while he descends the staircase, teleporting Tony inside before the mechanic has the chance to knock. Tony stumbles forward with the loss of orientation, quickly righting himself when he sees Stephen coming towards him. He steels his shoulders and faces the man head on, plastering a smile on his face. He has to inwardly admit though, that he is genuinely glad to see the sorcerer looking better again.

Stephen suppresses the flutter of his heart at the sight of Tony, willing the memories of one too vivid timeline away that keep popping up every time he faces the billionaire. He knows that the tinted glasses on Tony’s face are hiding dark bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep, but he still looks stunning. A long-sleeved shirt clings to Tony’s frame, accentuating his muscular arms and tight jeans are hugging his ass nicely, in true Stark fashion.

Stephen tries to stay cool and keep a neutral face. “Stark,” he acknowledges.

“Hey there, Merlin. You look better again. You’re peachy as ever I see,” Tony answers, coming closer after Stephen’s stopped a few feet away from him.

Stephen rolls his eyes. “Is there a point to this visit other than annoying me?” he asks dryly.

“I missed you too buddy. Your outfit looks stunning by the way,” Tony says, sly grin spreading wider over his face. “I like it much better than your usual getup.”

Stephen looks down at himself, having forgotten that he wasn’t completely dressed yet. He wore sweatpants that hung low on his waist, chest bare as he’d just woken up from a healing trance to take care of the remaining injury on his abdomen. The cloak that had settled over his bare shoulders flares out in defense, before wrapping tightly around its master to cover more of him. Stephen frowns in annoyance at himself, flicking his wrist, and the cloak moves back slightly as the sweats are replaced by his usual blue tunic before attaching back to him.

“Pity,” Tony says. “Am I interrupting anything?”

For a brief moment Stephen contemplates brushing Tony off with a quick lie but he can’t seem to bring himself to it. “Unfortunately, no,” he replies instead, “I was just done.” When Tony quirks an eyebrow at him, he quickly adds, “With a healing session.”

“Well, then you have time to hear me out,” Tony starts but Stephen quickly interrupts him, “No.”

“No? You just said you had time.”

“I said you weren’t interrupting anything. And no, I already told Miss Danvers that I’m not joining your newly founded disaster group,” Stephen says calmly. Wong should be proud of him for not portaling Stark somewhere far away.

“Good for you but that’s not what I came here for.”

Stephen furrows his brow. He knows that him and Tony spent dozens of timelines fighting about him joining the post-apocalyptic Avengers. He’s thrown off track a little. “What do you want then?” he asks mistrustfully.

“I wanted to propose a deal of my own.”

“The answer is still no,” Stephen says, glaring at the billionaire.

Tony wants to rip his stupid handsome head off. Handsome? What the... Whatever, a thought for a later time. Tony takes a calming breath before he speaks again. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“I’m sure I’m not interested though. Is that all?” Stephen asks.

Tony gapes at him for a moment and words are flashing up in his mind. ‘Unlike everybody else, I don’t work for you.’ He sees Wong stand at the top of the stairs looking at them and just for the fraction of a second he looks amused.

“Just hear me out! I don’t want to offer you a job or talk you into joining anything, I just want to spend some time with you!” Tony snaps. He wonders if this is what other people go through dealing with him.

“What?” Stephen blurts, an adorably confused frown on his face.

Sensing his chance Tony quickly plows on before the doctor goes back to his stoic refusing anything. “I just want you to come over to my place and spend some time around me.” And analyze every single thing about you, Tony doesn’t say.

Stephen’s heart, which had begun to beat wildly in his chest, now stutters to a faltering halt. Tony wasn’t asking him out, this was... Something else. “Why?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

“Why not? You’re an interesting man, I can’t help myself,” Tony flatters.

“Stark.” Stephen’s stern voice warns him that he isn’t far from refusal again and his flattery isn’t working.

“Just talk. And maybe analyze that magic of yours.”

Stephen takes a step back, an expression of a kicked puppy flitting over his features. “You want to use me as your lab rat?” he spits venomously.

“No!” Tony quickly concedes. “I just wanna see what your magic looks like. I already know the energy signature, now I just want to find out how exactly the energy plays out.” Tony only barely resists the urge to chew on his bottom lip. Please say yes, please say yes, he thinks to himself.

Stephen considers him for a long moment, admitting to himself that he does want to know what that would look like. He has accepted the obscure mystical world by now but his heart aches to get back into scientific research, and he knows that with Tony he could easily indulge in it, bounce ideas off of him. He’s seen it, him and Tony working on medical sensors and prosthetics together, and he aches to go back to those nights spent in Tony’s lab that never happened. He swallows and tries to stay rational. “Why?” he asks again, not trusting his voice on much more.

“Curiosity,” Tony replies with a blinding smile. “Also, I made this for you.” He pulls out the gloves and holds them out for Stephen, who eyes them uncertainly before looking at Tony for an explanation. “They’re stabilizing. I noticed the shaking in your hands, they’ll help with-” Tony’s interrupted by Stephen’s snapping, “I don’t need your help!” He can just see Wong’s pitiful look and his head shaking, then he finds himself outside of the Sanctum door, gloves still in his hand.

What just happened? Tony thinks to himself. He tries the door, but it doesn’t move an inch. He bangs on the door, yelling for Strange to open up but nothing happens. He keeps going for what feels like minutes until the door opens up again, but it isn’t Strange standing there.

“You won’t earn any favors mentioning his hands,” Wong says.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Tony answers, rolling his eyes.

“He’s oversensitive about it. He’ll come around though.” At Tony’s skeptical look Wong goes on, “He likes you, but he is stubborn. Just give him some time and space.”

Tony sighs, not convinced of Wong’s assessment of the situation. “Just give him these, I have no use for them anyways,” he murmurs. He hands the gloves to Wong who takes them and nods curtly before closing the door in Tony’s face. Tony sighs again and shakes his head. That went south quickly.

***

Another range of attacks has kept the sorcerers busy for two days nonstop. Stephen’s hands feel like they’re killing him, and the shaking is so bad that he feels like the rest of his body is following suit with the movement.

“He left the gloves here, they’re on your desk,” Wong replies helpfully.

Strange grunts and throws Wong an irritated look. “I’m fine.”

Wong looks at him, managing to spew disapproval using only his eyes. He’d seen the demon that got too close and had smashed Stephen into the side of a mountain, hands taking the brunt of it against the rocky surface. He rolls his eyes at the other man’s stubbornness. “Just get over your ego and try the goddamn gloves, Stephen! It’s not like he will know either way,” Wong snaps before leaving to head back to Kamar-Taj, having had enough of the sulking doctor.

Stephen stubbornly stays where he is, sitting cross-legged in the library, determined to keep the pain at bay through meditation. It almost works, the pain subsides as he balances himself, when a new wave of pain ripples through him, nullifying his previous efforts to steady himself. He doubles over from the pain, curling protectively around the violently shaking limbs.

“Shit!” Stephen curses, screaming out in pain and frustration before he gets up, stumbling to his room on wobbly legs. The cloak steadies him several times, keeping him from smashing his head into the walls of the corridor.

When he reaches his room, he collapses onto his bed, struggling to grip the soft material of the gloves and pull them onto his shaking fingers. His hand is more swollen than it should be and he remembers smashing into stone. He grits his teeth and concentrates on the gloves, furrowing his brow at the size, seemingly made for someone whose hand size is closer to the Hulk’s than his own. When his hands have slipped into them though, the material starts to tighten and fit around his digits. For a moment he’s scared that they will squeeze too tightly and make matters worse. But they cling to his skin softly, not squeezing too tightly.

He remembers seeing Tony’s suit form when Ebony Maw attacked them and thinks it must be the same material that his under-suit was made of. When Stephen does feel pressure, he looks down at his hands in surprise. The gloves are warm against his battered limbs and start exerting pressure along each of his fingers from his palm outwards. His eyes fall closed in bliss as the pain dulls and fades almost to a background hum.

With his eyes closed he can almost imagine Tony sitting next to him, gently massaging the spasming fingers on a particularly bad day. A tear slips past his closed eyelids and he curls up on his bed, drifting asleep quickly, for once not separating from his physical body. He dreams of brown eyes and soft kisses along his fingers.

***

“Boss, you have a visitor.”

Tony looks up from Peter’s suit. “Who is it?” he asks.

“Stephen Strange.”

Tony’s eyes widen in surprise. It’s been a little over three weeks since his disastrous visit to the Sanctum that ended with him basically being thrown out. He hadn’t expected to hear anything more from the good doctor, despite Wong’s encouraging words. “What mood is he in?” Tony asks as he focusses back on the suit before him.

There is a short pause before FRIDAY answers, “Peachy.”

Tony starts to laugh. “Bring him down here.”

When the doors slide open and Stephen steps into the lab, Tony is still smiling to himself. He glances up at the doctor who stops in the doorway, looking almost shy. “Come on in, doc,” Tony says and puts his welding iron onto the station. Stephen steps in sheepishly, bafflement blooming on his face.

“You look surprised. Didn’t expect to find me here?” Tony questions.

Stephen’s eyes snap up to his at the comment. There’s a small pause where he seems to think about what to reply before he answers, “I didn’t expect you to invite me into your lab. Especially after my behavior last time. Which I am sorry for, by the way.”

Tony looks at him, curious. “Why not? What happened to make you think you weren’t welcome in my lab?”

Stephen catches onto the meaning of Tony’s question. “There were several timelines where those of the Rogues that survived were very... displeased about the rare privilege to be allowed in here,” Stephen phrases carefully.

Tony starts to chuckle. “Yeah, it has been a sore point in the past. So, you really didn’t peek into my brain?” He expects the answer to stay the same, judging by how offended Strange had seemed at the implication last time, but can’t stop himself from asking.

Something in Strange’s face softens as he replies, “Never without permission. I would never do that to you.” The sincerity in his voice surprises Tony but he catches on to the phrasing.

“Are you implying I gave you permission?” He stares questioningly at Stephen, displaying only curiosity and no anger. He can’t imagine ever allowing anyone into his head but then again fourteen million timelines are a lot of possibilities. Stephen seems hesitant to answer, warily eying Tony.

“Come on, just say it,” Tony tries.

Stephen’s shoulders straighten as if he expects a fight, but he relents. “There were some but not many. I screwed up a few of them.”

Tony’s curiosity is woken up even more by that. “How so?”

Stephen seems to draw back a little, like he’s receding deeper into himself. Tony softens a little. “Please tell me. I won’t be mad.”

“Yes, you will,” Stephen objects immediately. When Tony furrows his brow, he takes a deep breath. “Not at me maybe but...” Tony eyes him as the doctor moves to lean on a different desk, one a little further away from Tony, looking straight at Tony when he’s settled. “In almost every timeline you had remnants of Wanda Maximoff’s magic clouding your mind. You gave me permission to extract it sometimes, which involved extending my own magic into your mind.”

Tony’s breath hitches and his hands clench around the edge of the desk he’s sitting on. Stephen eyes him, stance relaxed but seeming prepared to be thrown out at any moment. Tony swallows thickly, another question whirling around the forefront of his head. “How did you screw up to not have permission?” he asks. He sees someone forcefully invading his mind with maybe good intentions but the shudder that runs over his back is unmistakable.

“I approached you directly about it. You didn’t react well to a near stranger offering to rinse your head of magic by poking around in it themselves.”

Tony lets out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “You reacted badly to most suggestions of using magic around you,” Stephen adds with his eyes directed to his shoes.

Tony takes that in and something dawns on him. “That’s why you assumed I hate magic,” he states.

Despite not being formulated as a question, Strange nods. Silence settles between them for a moment before Tony speaks up again. “Soooo... The timelines you went through. How long did you spend on each?”

He almost regrets asking when he sees Strange’s body tense. Although he looks about ready to rip from tension, he admits, “Some where short. Sometimes I died within minutes and was never revived. Others were decades long. Everything in between, really.”

Tony takes in a sharp breath. “So, you always stayed in them until you died?” he asks. He can’t imagine experiencing fourteen million of your own lifetimes. One is enough to break him, he thinks bitterly.

“No,” Stephen disagrees. “I kept in them until everyone stopped trying to reverse the snap.”

Tony takes another deep breath. He wonders in how many timelines they just gave up. How many times did Stephen see everyone just accept half of the universe being gone? Tony can’t imagine that either.

Stephen rips Tony from his thoughts when he clears his throat. “Actually, I came here to apologize.” Tony looks up in surprise. “I was a dick when you offered the deal. Sorry.” Tony looks at Strange utterly shocked for a moment, then starts to laugh out loud. Stephen raises an eyebrow to regard Tony.

“Wow, you’re almost as bad at apologies as I am. But fair enough.” Tony smirks a little at Stephen’s relieved expression. “Does that mean you’ll consider it?” Tony questions.

Stephen smiles at him and lifts his hands. “I already have. Now I’m here to hold up my end of the deal.”

Tony smiles as well as he sees the thin black gloves covering the sorcerer’s skin, striding forward with confidence, finally feeling back in his element. “How’s the fit? Temperature? Pressure and pattern? I’ve already made an app for your phone to adjust it. Well, Starkphone that is. If that’s a nuisance I can also make it audio responsive. In a way that actually works reliably, mind you.” The words fall out of Tony’s mouth like a waterfall and Stephen chuckles, recognizing some similarities between Tony and that spiderkid.

“It’s amazing. Thank you, Tony,” Stephen replies, and Tony looks up at the warmth in the other’s voice. There’s still a soft expression on his face and Tony wonders if they’ve ever been really close friends in one of the timelines. Despite his initial dislike of the man and the ongoing dislike of magic, he thinks that a friendship wouldn’t be so bad. Tony reaches for Stephen’s hand and stops just short of it. After only a moment of hesitation Stephen places his hand in Tony’s, who tugs on the fabric lightly until the material stretches wider, so Stephen’s hand easily slips out.

There’s a slight wince when the material widens, and Tony looks up worriedly, but Stephen shakes his head softly. “They alleviate the pain,” he explains, and Tony lets out a relieved breath.

“I’ll be quick,” Tony promises and lays the glove on a holographic table. Specs and details pop up above the table and Tony quickly swipes through what looks like gibberish to Stephen. When he seems satisfied with the data, he picks the glove up to put it back on Stephen’s hand.

“Jesus Christ!” Tony hisses as he stares at the bare hand in Stephen’s lap. “It’s not supposed to cause that!” he exclaims, gingerly picking up the hand to examine the swollen knuckles, scars standing out starkly against the pale skin. The joints look like they’ve swollen to twice their usual size and the skin is littered with bright red cuts.

“That’s not... That wasn’t the gloves,” Stephen responds quietly.

Tony looks at him shocked. “What happened?” he asks then, carefully pulling the glove back over the scarred hand when Stephen nods.

Stephen visibly relaxes and lets out a relieved sigh when the glove tightens and starts to softly put pressure on the battered digits again. “A demon summoning,” he answers matter-of-factly.

Tony gawks at him. “One demon did that to you?!”

“No,” Stephen says, looking up in annoyance, “He brought his army of lower demons. I was fighting them off when he managed to toss me around a little.”

“Jesus,” Tony whispers again. “Where are they now?”

“Back where they came from,” Stephen answers.

Tony lets out a sigh and eyes the doctor for a moment. “You know, if you’d just tell me, I’d come and help you.”

Stephen looks up at that and genuinely smiles at the offer. Tony’s breath hitches a little as Stephen’s eyes crinkle. “It involves a lot of magic. But I appreciate the offer.”

Tony nods then and lets it go. “We were friends, weren’t we?” Tony asks. Stephen gets a faraway look before he shakes himself a little. Tony wishes he knew what he saw.

“Yes, sometimes we were close. Other times we couldn’t stand each other. Much to Colonel Rhodes suffering,” he adds as an afterthought. That draws a surprised laugh out of Tony and Stephen can’t help but chuckle as well.

“What about this one? Must be nice to know what to do and what not to do.”

At that Stephen looks at him, surprised. “I... I didn’t look any further than the snap being reversed,” he admits.

Tony balks a little at that. He doesn’t know. All this time Tony’s blamed him for the shitshow this turned out to be, but _he never saw_. He didn’t know that Tony’s life would go down the drain so spectacularly.

“About knowing what to do,” Stephen continues, “It’s not that easy. I remember people that were close to me that I’m not even sure I’ll ever meet in this lifetime.”

Tony regards him and suddenly he is so glad. He may have fucked up some things, but he isn’t missing something that’s plain unreachable. It must hurt.

“Wong said you like me,” Tony blurts when he is at a loss for words.

Stephen looks at him with a furrowed brow. So many memories are flooding his mind. Tony and him laughing in this lab, Tony’s repulsors aimed at his head, doing science together, screaming at each other. Tony kissing him.

Stephen opts to say the simplest version of what he feels. “I do.”

Tony regards him for a while longer. “Feels unfair,” Tony responds.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen replies immediately, head bowed low. He knows this is anything but easy. To Tony he’s a stranger, but Tony is... just so much to him. He can’t even put a name on it.

“No, I mean, it’s like some other Tony already did all the work. Like some other version of me had to endure your sassy dickish ways for me to have this already nice you.”

At that Stephen has to laugh unexpectedly, and Tony grins at him. “Although, I don’t really get how you’re not exhausted after like what, ten million lifetimes you’ve known me? People always say I’m terrible to be around.”

“If you haven’t noticed, that applies to me too,” Stephen supplies helpfully.

They both chuckle and Tony feels like he can breathe for the first time since he’s come back. For the first time, there’s something that’s just easy. Something that feels right. Inwardly he scoffs at himself. Magic sits five feet away from him and it feels right. What happened to his life?

“So, you said you would consider the deal again?” Tony asks hopefully.

Stephen raises his eyebrow at Tony. “I thought that it was rather obvious that I agreed to the deal, since I’m already wearing the gloves,” Stephen points out.

Tony shakes his head. “You don’t need to do this because I gave you the gloves. I won’t take them away from you if they’re actually helping with the pain.” His hand absently moves to his chest, thinking that if he’d found something to help with the pain from the arc reactor embedded in his sternum, he never would’ve given that up again.

Stephen smiles but shakes his head. “Not a problem. You just wanted to put up some sensors to see what the energy looks like, right?”

Tony nods, trying to hide the excitement that’s surging through him. Apparently, he is quite bad at that. Stephen chuckles, a deep reverberating sound that makes Tony’s skin tingle pleasantly. “To be honest, I’m curious too. I don’t know much about what you’re going to measure but I still try to find some logic in magic. I am a doctor after all,” he admits.

Tony is surprised to hear that. With the old Avengers team, only Bruce really understood his need to analyze everything. Tony hadn’t considered that Stephen might want anyone to examine magic from a scientific stance, least of all Tony. Excitement spurs Tony into action and he starts rummaging around his lab, putting up sensors and all kinds of things Stephen doesn’t even recognize.

When Tony is done, he motions for Stephen to get up. “Okay just step into the middle here and… do something.”

Stephen chuckles while Tony goes to sit behind his monitors. “What do you want me to do first?” Stephen asks patiently, although he’s all giddy inside. Finally, after more than two years of blind trust he will get some answers.

“Whatever you feel works best,” Tony answers. He dreads the moment Strange will say portals, but he regards Tony for a moment before he replies, “I’ll start with defensive shields.”

Tony nods, his shoulders relaxing in relief and realizing he probably shouldn’t be surprised. If he’s come to let Stephen use magic on his head in some timelines, he must know how much he despises portals.

They spend almost two hours just recording Stephen’s magic, who tries all sorts of different magical shields, from small little discs that flare brightly at his fists to big shields that encase all the space up to the sensors, like the one Tony remembers from their crash on Titan. When Tony tells him that they have enough data for their first scan, Stephen pulls up a chair next to him.

“So how long will this take?” he asks Tony.

“Friday will compare it to all known energy fields, we should have results in a few hours at the latest,” Tony replies.

“I mean, how long until your suits are imbued with resistance to magic?” Stephen corrects.

Tony’s head snaps up to stare at Stephen with wide eyes. “You know?” he chokes out.

Stephen rolls his eyes although a smile spreads on his face. “I’ve met you before Tony,” Stephen reminds him.

Tony swallows. “You’re not… mad though?” he asks, surprise clear in his voice.

Stephen throws him a look. “If I wasn’t okay with it, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place. Besides, maybe if your suit is more secure, I will call you to help the next time some demon drags his army to earth.”

Tony stares at the sorcerer stunned. The reason he didn’t call for help is that Tony wouldn’t be safe against a horde of demons? Apart from Rhodey, nobody ever considered whether he was suited or not to fight something. He feels something warm spread in his chest and stares down at his hands to hide the blush that’s creeping up his neck.

Stephen and Tony agree to regularly meet up to learn more about magic, spending three afternoons together over the next two weeks and Tony feels like things are going up. When Stephen comes over, he can finally relax, and he feels like he finally has a purpose again.

When Stephen absently mentions that he’s missed this, Tony looks up at him in confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asks. “Have we researched this in other timelines before?”

Stephen shakes his head. “There was one where we developed medical appliances for SI together,” Stephen explains.

Tony hums in acknowledgment. It makes sense really. Despite both of their egos, they work surprisingly well together, and Stephen picks up on everything that Tony throws at him quickly, always nudging Tony in a direction that he hadn’t considered before. Despite the doctor being less vocal about it, Tony has found that his enthusiasm about getting behind things rivals Tony’s own.

“Okay, Merlin. This is going really well and all and you seem to be enjoying yourself. So, I gotta ask, why the hell where you such a dick when I first showed up?” Tony asks suddenly, gaze focused on Stephen’s face.

The sorcerer looks up at him incredulously. “You mean when you passed out drunk on my doorstep, by the way the first time you came over in this timeline, why wasn’t I overjoyed? Tough question,” Stephen says sarcastically while rolling his eyes. “Also, I was actually busy at the time.”

“Fine, dickhead, I get it. But why did you try to get rid of me when I came with the gloves?” Tony retorts. Stephen purses his lips. “Ah, ah, ah! No lying, what was up with that doc?” Tony adds.

When Stephen looks at him again, there’s a cold expression on his face. “You still had that look like I would eat you alive the moment you turn your back on me. It’s not an expression that you enjoy on one of your closest friends’ faces, Tony,” Stephen snaps.

Tony visibly recoils at that. He stares at Stephen for a moment, before something dark and twisted settles in his stomach. "You know I hate magic! And I didn't know you. Actually," Tony corrects, "I still don't know you. Also, why should I believe you?! It's been four fucking months. You didn't come here once. I have heard not a SINGLE word from you! You just disappeared right after you returned. Sounds like a lousy friendship to me." After his conclusion Tony crosses his arms over his chest and gives Stephen a look that dares him to disagree.

For a moment a raw, hurt expression flickers over Stephen's face before it’s replaced with emotionless cold. Tony meets his stare head on, the fire blazing in his brown depths leveled on icy blue. "You don't even have official business here. What the hell do you want?"

Stephen narrows his eyes and despite his cool demeanor Tony can tell that rage is bubbling just under the surface. "You are not yourself, Tony. This is Wanda's magic. You must see that." Stephen takes a step forward and reaches out a hand towards him. Within seconds Tony's arm is stretched out in front of him, nanos rushing to form a gauntlet on his hand, repulsor aimed straight at Stephen's face.

"Don't touch me," Tony hisses. "Get the hell out!"

Stephen takes a deliberately deep breath before he responds, "I can help you."

With a low whirring sound, the repulsor charges and its light catches on the sorcerer's face, cheekbones casting shadows over his features. "I said get. The hell. Out," Tony repeats icily.

Stephen takes a measuring look at Tony's outstretched hand before he looks up again and takes a step back. "You're going to regret this,” Stephen warns.

"Out. Now," Tony hisses again. Then a shot misses Stephen's face by only a few centimeters. Stephen can feel the heat of it as it passes his cheek. "I'm not saying it again!" The repulsor charges once more and this time Tony aims directly at the doctor’s face.

Cold rage, wild and bare is displayed in Stephen's eyes. "I have misjudged you gravely. I suppose you do have everything you wanted from me now."

That startles Tony and for a moment he looks confused, like he doesn’t know where he is or how he got there. Stephen doesn’t notice though, eyes furiously directed at the gloves on his hands. They start to glow and after a moment are ripped to shreds by an outburst of energy. Before Tony has a chance to react to that, Stephen has formed a portal that sweeps over him and then he’s gone. Only the sparks of his portal remind Tony of his presence. He stares as the remains of those gloves slowly flutter to the ground.

He’s startled out of his stupor by white foam coating the spot where the sorcerer just disappeared. The sound of the fire distinguisher sends a jolt through Tony, and he points an accusatory finger at DUM-E, who beeps sadly and tilts his claw to the ground. Tony lets out a huff and waves him off before he falls back into his chair.

***

Tony wakes up to blaring alarms, groaning and rubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to wake up fully.

"Stark, we need you in Central Park right now. There’s a gigantic alien," Carol Danvers' voice announces.

Tony curses under his breath and scrambles up from the couch he’d been sleeping on. "I'm on my way."

When his suit approaches Central Park, he can see what Carol was talking about. The creature is about three times higher than the trees surrounding it, its skin has a muddy grey tone and most of its body is covered in thick scales that glint in the early morning light. Tony quickly counts six arms that seem to be grabbing everywhere at once. On its head are massive antlers, which it apparently used to smash its way halfway through the park, judging by the marks on the ground and an obvious path of destruction.

The screaming registers first when his suit stops just short of the beast, people on the ground still trying to run away from it. As it starts to grab for one of them, Tony is stopped cold by the sight of crimson bands swinging around its antlers and then yanking hard, pulling the giant away from its prey in the opposite direction.

When he turns to look, Tony does indeed see one sorcerer currently trying to bind the creature to one spot, probably to stop it from chasing after civilians. Right next to him is Carol Danvers. That explains the strength needed to pull that monster anywhere other than where it wants to go.

"What’s he doing here?" Tony asks over the comms.

Stephen Strange is still not a member of the New Avengers and Tony would greatly appreciate not running into him at all. It’s been almost two months since they last saw each other. Tony thinks it should be longer until they do again.

Carol barks out some orders to him which he immediately sets into motion, before she answers, "This is no creature I have seen before and Doctor Strange is much more familiar with extra-terrestrial life forms. That's why I asked him to come help us with this."

Tony grumbles under his breath, "Could have done it without him though."

Carol orders him to distract the creature while Strange opens a portal underneath it that will apparently send it back into the dimension it came from. Tony watches the sorcerer out of the corner of his eyes as he takes a wide stance and starts making a portal. Orange sparkles run around on the ground like a racetrack, the size bigger than any portal Tony has ever seen the man open. For a moment Tony thinks he sees Strange sway dangerously, sweat beading on his brow and hands despite the hideous yellow gloves visibly shaking with violent tremors.

Just when Tony thinks the portal actually activates, he hears Carol yell, "Stark, watch out!" Tony sees the hand that’s reaching for him too late and realizes that he can’t get away anymore. He curses and prepares to be knocked out of the air, only there is no impact, instead another portal fizzles open and then closed, right in front of his face. It effectively cuts off the arm, reminding him of Wong pulling the same move. It must be a wizard specialty.

When he sees Strange floating close to him, his first thought is that he must’ve stopped making the big portal, but when he looks down, he can see a second Strange who’s still concentrated on his previous task. The portal opens, the creature starting to fall through.

With a last angry howl, it swats at both sorcerers simultaneously. The Stephen that’s close to him fades into nothing as the hand rushes through his body, like he’s flickering out of existence, however the other form of the man isn’t that lucky. The cloning process on top of the huge portal has exhausted him so much that he can’t react fast enough. He’s swatted away like a fly, his body swirling through the air like a rag doll. His last coherent thought is of bargains and being smashed around like a crash test dummy.

Then he connects forcefully with a second story house front before he loses consciousness. His body proceeds to drop completely motionless to the floor, only slowed by the cloak which seems to be dazed as well, which Tony didn’t think was possible, but it certainly looks like it. The piece of cloth slows the fall, but the man still smashes into the ground hard enough to make Tony flinch.

The creature that had been falling through the portal is now caught in the closing ring, about a quarter of its upper body separating from the rest, which disappears in another dimension. His head and the top of his shoulders are left here, making for a gruesome picture.

Tony only barely manages to swallow down the bile that rises in his throat, waiting a few more seconds, hands trained on the alien remains but nothing so much as twitches. When he’s certain that it won’t come alive again Tony flies toward where the doctor fell.

Captain Marvel is already kneeling next to him, checking for a pulse. When Tony takes in the man-shaped heap on the ground he understands why. Strange's left arm is twisted into a gruesome angle, pointing away from the rest of his body. Beneath the blue robes that are slowly changing color from the blood that seeps out of his wounds, Tony thinks he sees the bone of his thigh protrude. At that point Tony's face mask snaps open and he turns around, falling to his knees and emptying the contents of his stomach on the sidewalk.

When he finally stops heaving, he turns back around to see Carol ripping apart pieces of her uniform and tying them around the worst bleeders so tightly, that Tony thinks it might just cut all of the doctor’s blood flow off. He takes in the rest of the man’s form and swallows around the lump that’s forming in his throat. He isn’t that familiar with medicine, but he’s certain that there’s a few broken ribs and the skin is so broken and his face so bloodied, that Tony barely recognizes the man.

"We need to get him back to the compound fast," Carol orders and Tony nods numbly. He’s well aware that this happened because the man tried to protect him. Another one in the long list of Tony's failures.

Something in him is fighting, trying to claw its way to the surface but it’s completely drowned out by feelings of guilt and more than anything else concern.

***

Tony's hands clench and unclench while he paces in the corridor, reminding him too much of waiting on news for Rhodey. They might not be very close (from Tony's point of view anyways) but paralysis is just one of the possibilities that flicker through his thoughts.

Tony shrieks slightly when a hand settles on his shoulder. He whips around and mutters a breathy, "Jesus." He collects himself for a moment and then asks, "Anything new?"

Bruce understands what he means but shakes his head. "I just heard of it myself. How bad is it?"

Tony shrugs helplessly, something in him twitching and he faces Bruce with a venomous look. "Where were you?" he grits out.

Bruce looks startled for a moment before he replies, "Carol didn't call me in. They just told me that something happened at all. Apparently Doctor Strange said they could handle it alone and there was no need for anyone else to make a mess." From the way Bruce says that Tony is pretty sure that’s a quote.

"Arrogant dick," Tony mutters and slumps into one of the chairs that line the wall.

Bruce carefully sits down next to him. "I thought you weren't close?"

Tony huffs a tired laugh and runs his hand over his face. "I don't know what we are," he answers. The stress and confusion of the last weeks are crashing down on top of him and he doesn’t know what to do with all of the conflicting feelings that twirl around inside of him.

“Do you need to talk about it?" Bruce asks, and Tony can’t believe how one can look so uncomfortable and still ask that question.

"I'd rather not talk you to sleep right now," Tony retorts.

Bruce swallows nervously and prompts, "I'm wide awake now. If I fall asleep though you can still poke me again."

Sure enough, that does put a tired smile on Tony's face. "It's just... God. I don't know whether I can believe him. He says all these crazy things but then he also knows so much about me it's creepy."

Bruce furrows his brow before he says, "I think I missed the start of this story, Tony. And not because I fell asleep."

Tony huffs again and stares at the closed doors of the operating rooms. He does have time enough, he thinks to himself. So, he starts at the beginning, meaning when he and Strange left into space on a flying donut.

Bruce follows Tony's mood swings with concern but wisely chooses not to mention them. At the end he asks, "So the reason you don't trust him is because you think he might have been in your head and you don't want to believe him that Wanda is still in your head?" Tony nods and rubs a hand across his face again.

"And we have readings on both Strange's and Wanda's magic," he continues. At that point Tony looks up at him with a wrinkle on his forehead. "We know that Strange doesn't have his powers from the mind stone. So, if we scan you, because by now we know what to look for, we can tell whether that's him or her," Bruce explains.

"You sound sure that there’s someone in my head," Tony grumbles.

"Tony, while telling me about what happened you switched like five times between despising the guy and then acting like you're best friends," Bruce points out cautiously.

When Tony looks at him incredulously, Bruce just shrugs. Tony takes a deep breath and then defends, "The guy can be a real asshole." Bruce nods with a wry smile before he tells Tony to come to the lab, so they can check it out. "Friday, keep me posted," Tony announces before he follows Bruce.

Tony sits fidgeting on a stool while the sensors are directed at his head.

“Wow," Bruce mutters after a moment.

"What is it?" Tony asks quickly and leans forward.

Bruce swivels a screen around to face Tony, a scan of Tony's head on it with a brightly colored cloud swiveling around a small part of it. "Seems like it's mostly around the limbic system," Bruce says thoughtfully, leaning in closer to the screen.

"The part that handles emotions?" Tony asks. Bruce nods and magnifies the scan. "Whose is it?" Tony's heart is beating wildly in his chest and his mouth is dry.

"It matches the mind stone signature," Bruce replies, still concentrated on the scan.

At that moment Friday chimes in, "Boss, I have checked it against all the records we have of Doctor Strange's magic. Nothing indicates that he is or was inside your head." Tony finds himself relieved at this news. During their tests they had found out that especially if Strange uses magic on a specific object some residual energy lingers and is still readable for weeks afterwards.

"Can you get it out?”

Bruce shakes his head and Tony's hope sinks. "I have no idea how you would extract something like this. I suppose only Wanda can do that. She’s the only known person with powers based on the mindstone. Maybe Vision, but he doesn’t have the mindstone anymore, so who knows."

Tony shakes his head at that. "Strange's powers don't come from the mindstone but he said he could take it out. Wong must be able to do it too."

Bruce contemplates that for a moment. When Tony gets up, he quickly says, "Let me come with you."

Tony looks at him in confusion. "Why, don't you trust him?"

"No, I just have a theory," Bruce admits, grabbing a small portable sensor from Tony's desk. The mechanic shrugs and leads the way.

***

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?!" Tony yells before menacingly stepping towards Wong. Bruce glances worriedly at the sensor in his hand, display flaring up in glowing colors.

Wong looks at Tony with his usual stoic expression. It’s infuriating. "Stark, it's not that I won't. I can't."

Tony raises an accusing finger at Wong, ignoring Bruce's hand on his shoulder that’s trying to tug him back. "Bullshit! Stephen told me he did it in several other timelines!"

Wong's expression slips into annoyance. "Yes, Stephen. Not me. You should see him about this, he might be able to help you. I’m not."

Tony is seething now, and Bruce desperately tries to hold him back. "Don't give me that crap. I've heard him talk about getting most of his advice from you. If he can do it, so can you."

"No, I can’t." Wong repeats sternly. When Tony opens his mouth to let out another tirade, Wong quickly keeps talking, "You were on Titan when Stephen used the time stone." It's a statement and not a question but Tony still nods in confirmation. "How many futures did he look at?" Wong asks.

Tony stares at him for a moment before he answers, "Fourteen million. Why?"

Bruce balks behind them. "He what?!" Both Tony and Wong ignore him.

"Do you know how long they lasted?"

Tony is quickly getting annoyed at the questioning from Wong. "Minutes to decades. What's your point?"

Wong nods once at Tony's statement. "Within the first one thousand futures he saw he’s probably had a century on our lifetime. And he remembers most of it. Now imagine fourteen million lived futures. Imagine the experience you would gather in hundreds of centuries. Mind spells are beyond difficult. Only few sorcerers in Kamar-Taj are able to cast them at all. None except for Stephen have the experience to cast a spell that alters the mind without killing both the sorcerer and the subject."

Silence fills the space between the three men for a while.

"He remembers fourteen million lifetimes? How is that possible? How can the brain ever hold that much information?" Bruce asks, incredulous.

"I don’t have an answer for those questions, but I can tell you that the only people that can help Stark are Strange and Maximoff," Wong states solemnly.

"How old is he?” Tony asks, his anger completely gone again.

Wong shakes his head. "I don't know how many years he’s spent inside the time stone. For his physical form the time spent is always reversed but his mind remembers what happened."

Tony nods at that. Nobody knows what exactly Stephen saw inside the stone then. A rush of sympathy flows through him at the thought of the loneliness that must come with so much knowledge that you can’t share with anyone, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

Bruce clears his throat behind him pointedly and Tony turns around to look at the scientist. "Did you just think something friendly about Strange?" Bruce asks. When Tony only frowns at him he takes that as confirmation. "It seems that Wanda's magic becomes active when you think positively about him. From what I've seen so far I would say it makes you alienate yourself from anyone that wants to help you and even more so anyone who could extract Wanda's magic from your head."

Wong nods at Bruce's statement thoughtfully. "It makes sense. The spell seems to be feeding on negative emotions and it might be trying to preserve itself by eliminating threats to it."

Tony's head snaps back around to him to stare at the other man and when Wong notices Tony's look, he focusses his gaze back on him. "I might not be able to extract it, but I can still sense it. Knowing what it feeds on, I might be able to put a spell around it that dampens its effects. It will probably dissolve quickly again, seeing how aggressive Wanda's magic is, but it should hold for a week, maybe two," Wong explains.

Bruce regards him before replying, "Like a band aid?"

Wong nods at Bruce before he turns back to Tony. "It’s the only thing I can do for you."

Tony nods thoughtfully. "Will it still affect me?"

"Yes. I can only lessen the intensity. It should be enough though for you to notice when her magic starts to influence you."

Tony doesn’t need to think about it for long. "Do it."

Wong steps in front of Tony without hesitation. "Hold still," he commands, his hands starting to draw complicated sigils into the air, orange runes which start to lay on top of one another. After a moment he stops, the finished mandala glowing brightly. Tony's heart beats fast and his mouth feels dry, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. When Wong grabs the mandala at both sides and moves it towards Tony's head, he pinches himself to keep from recoiling. The magic moves through his skin, cold emanating from it, making Tony's head ache immediately and chasing a shiver down his spine. When Wong feels he’s reached the right spot, he lets his mind push at the magic before him and Tony lets out an involuntary cry of pain, flinching away.

Wong retracts his arms and says, "Done."

Tony grabs his head and frowns at the wave of dizziness that washes over him. The stinging pain from before dulls but stays in the exact same spot.

"Her magic is fighting it," Wong states. "Come back if you feel the need to renew the spell. I will visit Stephen now."

Tony frowns as Wong opens a portal to what he recognizes as the compound. "He's not..." Tony stares down at the message on his phone from Friday. 'Doctor Strange has gotten out of surgery an hour ago. Visitors are now allowed.'

"Never mind," Tony mutters. Wong steps through the portal, waiting on the other side and looking back at them, so Tony and Bruce follow through after him.

When they arrive at Stephen’s room, Wong strides in with purpose. Bruce has already left toward his own lab since he doesn’t really know Strange, so Tony follows into the room after Wong.

There’s a woman in the room, looking over the chart at the foot of the bed. Wong nods towards her and greets her with a quiet, “Christine”.

There’s a sad smile on her face as she looks up at him. “Wong. What did he do this time?” she asks.

Tony feels awkward, standing near the door. Is this Strange’s girlfriend? He’s never heard Stephen talk about anyone, but then again, they’ve never really talked about anything personal, apart from a few details about the other timelines. Always superficial information, nothing that really told Tony anything about the man.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there,” Wong answers, pointing towards Tony and adding, “He was.”

Christine stares at him, surprised. While Wong settles in a chair next to Stephen and starts drawing runes in the air, Christine walks over and extends her hand to him. When he shakes it, she smiles, introducing herself, “Christine Palmer.”

“Tony Stark,” he replies, studying the woman in front of him. She’s small, slender, a studied air of authority around her. Doctor, his brain supplies helpfully. “Are you his girlfriend?” Tony blurts, the filter between his brain and his mouth again out of order apparently.

She snorts, before replying, “No. I’m just the doctor in whose hospital he keeps turning up half dead. And as I just found out, I’m also still his emergency contact.”

Tony nods at that. Sounds like a complicated past, maybe he can get some of the details out of Stephen once he’s back on track. Some tragic love story would certainly make him seem more human than the cool, controlled ass he usually is. “How bad is it?” Tony asks, glancing behind her at the still form of the man, who’s ghostly pale and covered in gauzes. Tony’s glad to see no tube sticking out of his throat though.

“They operated for two hours, but mostly there were broken bones to fix. Some light internal bleeders, nothing too bad. Not by his standard anyway,” she mutters.

Tony looks at her, surprised. “So, this happens often?” he asks.

Christine shakes her head, gaze focused back on Wong and the still sorcerer. “He prides himself in being able to fix himself back up. When I see him, it’s usually when he is on the verge of unconsciousness. And he still has the audacity to fly out of his body and tell me what I’m doing wrong while I’m saving his life,” Christine grumbles, a sour expression on her face.

Tony starts to laugh out loud, unable to help himself. She looks at him surprised and a little pissed.

When his laughter has died down enough to let him breathe again, Tony replies, “I’ve had the pleasure. I was fixing him up after he passed out. Apparently, he was watching me for like twenty minutes before he just _appeared_ and told me I missed a spot.”

Christine snorts again, a grin on her face. “Typical,” she says. “If he didn’t snap at you for the way you did it, you’re a lucky one,” she tells Tony. There’s a moment of silence before she says, “Well, I switched with someone else to be here and I really have to get back to my shift. It was nice meeting you.” She turns to leave and as she walks out Tony can hear her mutter under her breath, “I can’t believe he knows Tony Stark.”

He shakes his head a little and steps up next to Wong. “How is it looking?” he asks, gesturing to the runes floating above Stephen’s body that Wong is finishing with.

Wong stands up and looks down at the unconscious man. “He was lucky it’s nothing worse. He only needs a few days of rest. I suggest you keep him here, where his astral form will have nothing to do. If I take him back to the Sanctum, he will already be working again when I come back tomorrow.”

Tony nods at that. “Of course. It would be best to have him in the medical ward in case his injuries are worse than expected.” And I need some time alone with him to apologize, Tony doesn’t add.

“I’m waiting to see if you can out-stubborn him,” Wong replies and moves to leave the room. In the door he pauses, frowning for once. “Are you okay with him staying here? Last time he came back he was in a bad mood for days. The gloves disappeared too,” Wong points out.

Tony’s shoulders slump. “We had a fight. He ripped the gloves to shreds before he left,” Tony admits, and Wong huffs, shaking his head. “He’ll be alright here though,” Tony assures Wong.

The other man nods, before he adds, “He’s insufferable when you two aren’t on good terms. Please try not to fight any more with him.” With those words Wong is gone and Tony stares after him in shock.

When he looks back at Stephen’s motionless face, he contemplates what Christine and Wong said. There’s something going on. For some reason Tony feels like he’s getting special treatment from Stephen and he’s dying to know why.

Tony slumps into the chair next to the bed and settles in for a long wait. “If you’re watching, come out.” When nothing happens Tony scoffs at himself, feeling stupid. He regards the man in the bed before he mutters, “Your friends are seriously busy people.”

Again, he feels that the man must be really lonely, and it makes him sad. Tony knows that if he ended up in the hospital, Happy, Pepper and Rhodey wouldn’t budge from his bedside. Peter would probably be there too. He sighs and decides to be that person waiting for Stephen if no one else will. His gaze lands on one of the sorcerer’s hands, taking in the swollen scars and knuckles. Jesus, they look horrible again. This man seems to always be pushing himself to the edge.

Tony sighs and pulls up the plans of the last gloves on his Starkpad, spending two hours tweaking some things before he tells Friday to make them. He falls asleep next to Stephen with his head pillowed beside the man’s arm on the bed.

***

Tony wakes up to moans and thrashing, slowly blinking his eyes open. It’s dark outside, barely any light is coming in through the window and his eyes take a few moments to adjust to the darkness. He can hear Stephen mumbling and see him thrashing on the bed, the heartbeat monitor beeping wildly, indicating the man’s racing heart.

Tony quickly gets up and tries to hold Stephen down by his shoulders to keep him from jostling his injuries while simultaneously shaking him awake. “Strange, wake up!” Tony says loudly, trying to rouse the man from sleep.

Stephen still thrashes and mutters and from up closer, Tony can hear what he says. “Dormammu,” he mumbles.

Tony’s heart runs cold. Despite the violent shaking, the man’s voice is dripping with determination and Tony wonders if the nightmare is about one of the timelines Stephen has mentioned before. The still beeping heart rate monitor pulls him out of his stupor and he shakes a little more at Stephen’s shoulders, to no avail.

“I’ve come to bargain,” Stephen states and Tony feels helpless.

“Strange,” he breathes, unable to utter more words through his closed-up throat.

A violent shudder runs down the sleeping man’s body before he shoots upright in his bed with a loud, deeply pained cry. Tony just manages to move out of the way to keep their heads from colliding. Stephen lets out another pained cry, hands flying to his side and Tony remembers the broken ribs, tries to think what the best course of action would be but comes up short. For a moment he finds himself wishing Dr Palmer was here.

Stephen doubles over where he sits, face distorted in a grimace of pain. He’s shivering all over, breathing rapid and shallow and Tony thinks he sees tears glistening on his cheeks. Tony carefully places a hand on Stephen’s uninjured shoulder to calm the man down, however it has the opposite effect. Strange grunts and lunges away from Tony, ripping out his IV and the sensors measuring his heart beat, toppling off of the other side of the bed. He lands on the ground with a thud, air audibly escaping from his throat.

“It’s okay, Strange. You’re back on earth, at the compound. We defeated Thanos, it’s over,” Tony soothes, standing with his arms raised in a non-threatening gesture. Otherwise, he stays rooted to the spot, not wanting the man to freak out even more since touching him was definitely the wrong move.

Stephen chokes and coughs violently, wincing again in pain, his shivering intensifying. Stephen’s lower lip quivers and he bites at it, looking up at Tony from where he’s crumpled on the floor. His eyes are wild, frightened and he doesn’t seem to recognize Tony, scrambling backwards despite the pained groans that spill out of his mouth until his back hits the wall of the room. Tony just stares at him shocked.

The door to the room snaps open behind him, doctors switching on bright lights and moving to hurry over to Stephen. Tony spurs into action, surging forward and placing himself between Stephen and the doctor and two nurses that have rushed into the room.

“Stop!” he commands.

Both nurses stop near the door, looking at each other uncertainly. The doctor though tries to rush past Tony, so he grabs him and forcefully pushes him back. “He has a panic attack,” Tony explains tersely.

The doctor first looks at him, then at Stephen. “Diazepam,” he orders, holding his hand out to one of the nurses.

Tony hears a distressed grunt behind him, looking back just in time to see Stephen shoot a disc of orange magic at the other doctor which hits him in the chest, making him stumble backwards.

Tony curses under his breath before he snaps, “Get out! I’ll handle this. I’ll call you if you’re needed.” The nurses quickly scramble out of the room, shortly followed by the doctor, who is rubbing at his chest with one hand.

Tony closes the door behind them, then carefully turns around to face Stephen. The man warily eyes him, hands still raised in a defensive position. His shivering isn’t as intense as before, but still quite noticeably there, his hands shaking more than usual with the effort of keeping his arms stretched out in front of him.

“Hey there,” Tony says carefully, raising his hands back up, visible for Stephen with his palms out. “I won’t hurt you. No sedative either, promise.” He speaks slow and quiet, hoping to get through to the rational part of Stephen’s brain.

It seems to be working, the sorcerer’s arms slowly lowering. After another moment he slumps back into the wall, grimacing at yet another wave of pain. Tony lets his own hands slide back down and carefully comes a little closer.

“I really need you to sit back down, somewhere that isn’t the ground. A few hours ago, you were operated on,” Tony explains to the man still cowering on the ground. Stephen nods in understanding, trying to stand up. “Let me help you?” Tony asks, taking a step forward.

He stops immediately when Strange shakes his head, fighting to get back on his feet, low moans of pain escaping him. When he’s finally upright again, he wobbles a little but makes it back to the bed on his own. Once there, he lets himself flop back against the mattress, breathing rapid.

“Can I let the doctors back in to examine you?” Tony questions with a voice that he hopes to be sympathetic but not pitying.

Stephen shakes his head again, hands forming a spell that jiggles for a few seconds in the air. Once its steadied, it starts to move up and down the man’s body, glowing brightly and slowing down at the middle of his body. “This will suffice,” Strange rasps with a raw voice. Tony can see that he’s still shaking and knows instinctively, it isn’t from the pain.

Tony sighs and sinks back into his chair. “I’m gonna stay here then,” Tony speaks into the silence, “I’m not comfortable leaving you on your own right now.” And at least you aren’t attacking me, he doesn’t add.

Stephen nods at that, shoulders tense. Tony watches the rune glowing over Stephen’s body for about an hour, before he falls back asleep. Stephen’s eyes have closed as well, but Tony is pretty sure the man isn’t sleeping any more tonight.

When Tony wakes up, it’s to soft morning-light streaming in through the windows. He rubs at his eyes and sits up in his chair. Strange is still on his bed, although by now sitting in a lotus position, bare feet neatly folded onto his legs, back strait. His hands are placed on top of his legs, the only thing moving are his shaking hands and the slow rise and fall of his chest. Tony has to admit, it looks quite ridiculous to be seated like that while wearing a hospital gown. Then he furrows his brow, remembering the broken leg among other injuries. There’s no trace left of them apart from the bandages that still look out underneath the gown.

He gets up to stalk over and inspect the man when he opens his eyes, staring straight into Tony’s. “Stark.” His voice is cold, the name merely an acknowledgement. His eyes are distant, not like the last times they spoke. He seems as aloof as he did when they met before Titan.

Tony stops to search the other man’s face, but it’s a perfect picture of control. Tony is good at reading people, but he sees nothing in the sorcerer’s face now.

“Where are my clothes?” The question is slow, clear, without emotion. All traces of the frightened man having gone through a panic attack have vanished.

“What happened to your broken leg?” Tony asks instead of answering.

“I’ve had enough time to heal it,” Stephen states. Then he tilts his head a little, narrowing his eyes, staring at the top of Tony’s head. “Who did that?”

For a moment Tony frowns at him, but then he understands what Stephen means. “Wong,” he answers.

Strange scoffs, before he closes his eyes and moves his head to an upright position again. “It’s sloppy. It won’t hold.” Tony balks for a moment before he shakes his head. Christine’s words come back to his mind. If he didn’t snap at you for the way you did it, you’re a lucky one.

Tony takes a deep breath, before he comes over and sits on the edge of Stephen’s bed opposite him, Strange’s eyes snap back open to follow him. Tony takes a deep breath; this is his chance to apologize for the way he reacted months ago. He holds out the new gloves, which had lain next to his chair when he woke up. “I made these for you. They’re a thinner material than the last ones and should allow you to feel more and move your hands more freely,” Tony explains.

Stephen looks at him blankly. “Why?”

Tony lets out a huff. “I’m not good with apologies, so. Just consider them my sorry for not believing you.” Tony expects some reaction, emotion in his face and voice like the first time Stephen had come over to thank him for the gloves.

Stephen just throws him a measuring look, before he states, “Thank you.” His voice is cold, clinical even and Tony flinches a little, looking at the man in surprise. “Do you want me to remove Wanda’s magic?” Stephen continues.

Tony lays the gloves down between them since Stephen still hasn’t taken them. “What’s up with you?” Tony asks. He doesn’t want to go back to the way things were before Titan. Stephen had been a dick and to be honest, Tony misses the time they spent in his lab together. Now that Wanda’s magic was subdued, he could recognize that.

“Do you want me to remove it or not?” Stephen snaps.

“Are you up for it?” Tony asks instead of answering.

Stephen’s mouth sets into a grim line and he nods. “Sit cross-legged,” Stephen commands and Tony hesitates only for a short moment before he pulls both his legs up on the bed. Strange scoots a little closer and reaches his hands out. “Don’t fight me. You have to let me in,” he murmurs.

Tony snaps his head back. “What? How does this work?”

“I will go into your mind. I can only fight it from the inside. Once the magic isn’t attached to your brain anymore, I can extract it,” Stephen replies, then he reaches out again and pulls Tony’s head back, so he’s in a perfectly upright position. Tony swallows around the lump in his throat and nods. Stephen presses his index and middle fingers to Tony’s temples on either side. He closes his eyes and Tony watches as Stephen works.

Unlike Wong’s magic, this feels warm, spreading inwards and making Tony instinctively relax into Stephen’s hold. There’s a short, satisfied nod from Stephen, before his fingers tighten on Tony’s head, and with the pressure rises the temperature. Tony can see Stephen screw his eyes shut in what looks like pain before his vision starts to swim. He feels a pang in his head, scorching heat exploding inside of him. He hears Strange grunt and tries to relax despite the pain that’s spreading through his own head. When Stephen’s fingers leave his temples, he breathes out in relief. At once, Stephen’s palm presses against Tony’s forehead and it feels like a shockwave of ice cold _something_ is rushing through him, starting at the front of his head. He feels a tug when it hits the back of his head, before all the sensations pass.

His vision clears back up within a few blinks of his eyes and Tony is left with a dull headache. Stephen’s face is still distorted with concentration and after a moment a wild, flailing ball of red strings floats in between them, surrounded by orange runes that press on it, making it smaller and smaller. After a few seconds it crackles like a sparkler, then disappears in a shower of sparks.

“Is it gone?” Tony asks in a breathy voice.

Stephen nods, before he gets up. “It is. Your headache will stay a day at most. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to get my clothes and be on my way,” Stephen replies in a level tone.

“Aaaah, no you won’t. Wong said you need rest, which is why you’ll stay here. At the compound,” Tony interjects.

Stephen throws him an unimpressed look before he replies, “If I wasn’t at the top of my game, I wouldn’t have been able to cast this spell now. Which you would know, since Wong has already told you that he can’t perform it, and neither can any other masters at Kamar-Taj. Quit playing dumb, it doesn’t suit you, Stark.” Tony still isn’t used to the 180 degree turn by the sorcerer.

He’s brought out of his stupor by the door to the room opening. The cloak flies in, carrying Stephen’s clothes and stopping in front of the man. Stephen smiles at the piece of fabric and it’s the first spark of warmth Tony’s seen in the man since his nightmare. For a moment he feels a pang of jealousy before he mentally scolds himself for that thought. Strange isn’t his problem anyways.

With one swift movement the clothes that the cloak had brought are on Stephen again, then the cloak comes to rest on his shoulders and he pulls on the sling ring that had been in his tunic. Before Tony can do anything else, Stephen has opened a portal and stepped through, leaving Tony with the closing ring of sparks.

Tony frowns as he looks at the gloves that are still lying on the bed. He remembers the relief that’d washed over Stephen’s face in his lab when he’d pulled them back on. They were helping with the pain. Why did he not take them now? Tony shakes his head and grabs them, heading down to the lab. Maybe Strange will come back. If not, Tony can still give the creepy haunted mansion another visit in the next days.

***

Two weeks pass without any notice from their magic New York neighbors and to be honest, Tony is a little pissed. He had apologized after all. Irritated, he decides to do another personal visit because at the moment, Stephen’s one of the few people Tony enjoys being around and he isn’t letting him off the hook that easy.

Also, he’s had a lot of time to sort through his memories and feelings without magic inside his brain. He remembers all the small gestures, soft smiles and warm chuckles and he wants _more._ For some reason, Stephen liked him after he came back from all of those futures in the time stone, and Tony wants to know why. More importantly, he wants to keep it. He wants to be closer and he’s nothing if not determined to see that goal through.

Tony arrives at the Sanctum and knocks once before he lets himself in. He’s come to realize that apparently, the door is open to him (he isn’t sure if it’s just him or anyone, but he likes to assume it’s some sort of privilege). He calls out for Strange and gets no answer. Instead of waiting for someone to come, Tony moves through the Sanctum and peers into all the rooms that have an open door, as well as calling for Stephen several more times.

He walks up the next flight of stairs, which apparently puts him in the attic, and stops cold. Strange is kneeling on the floor in a pose that looks like an execution is happening, eyes completely black. He’s shivering, skin pale and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. The cloak is wrapped tightly around him as if trying to hold him down, maybe comfort him. Wong is next to them, flicking through books with a worried crease on his forehead that just looks foreign on him.

The expression makes Tony’s heart sink. “What is going on here?” he asks, taking the last steps towards them. The big window with a rune embedded in it throws an eerie red glow on the scene before him.

Wong frowns at him for a short moment before he gets back to searching the books. “You picked a bad time.”

“Yeah, somehow seems like I always do. What’s wrong with him?” Tony retorts, pointing at the shaking sorcerer. When Wong doesn’t react, Tony speaks up louder, “I could help.”

Wong’s frown deepens, and a few moments pass before he huffs and his shoulders sag. He grabs one of the books and stalks over to the mechanic, opening a specific page. “This has befallen him,” Wong declares, pointing to a picture in the book. It’s a painting of a head, although basically more of a skull with rotten skin on it. Through the openings in the skull for eyes, nose and mouth, an orange glow emanates. On both sides of its forehead are formations that are somewhere between horns and antlers. “It’s a creature from the Dream dimension. It acts like a parasite, feeding off of painful memories. I haven’t found anything else in our entire library,” Wong says, frustration clear in his voice. “According to this text, it feeds until all painful memories of it’s host have been consumed, but all known cases have resolved within hours, at most,” Wong continues. His voice sounds panicked and it’s freaking Tony out as well if he’s honest. Wong isn’t the type of person to panic.

“How long has he been like this then?” Tony asks stepping a little closer to inspect the book, but finding that he can’t read the language it’s written in.

“Three days,” Wong states and Tony’s head snaps up with a painful crack.

“DAYS?” Tony exclaims, then studies Stephen. He looks like death itself in the gloomy red light. Wong nods. “Can’t you just punch it out or something?” Tony asks and looks at Wong curiously, who only returns a dismissive glare.

“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be here explaining this to you,” Wong snaps. “It feeds on his magical energy while it’s trapping him in his memories, if it only took a few hours to feed, this wouldn’t be a problem but if it keeps going like this, it’s going to drain him completely.”

“Which will…” Tony starts and leaves the sentence hanging out in the open. “Kill him,” Wong states darkly and Tony curses.

“Is there any mind magic or something you can do?” Tony tries.

Wong shakes his head again. “His consciousness is trapped in between dimensions, reliving everything the creature finds. If we apply any offensive magic, it will rip his soul free from his body. Which will also kill him.”

Tony curses again. “Is there anything we can do at all then? There must be something!” Tony growls desperately.

“The only chance is for Stephen to fight it. But I can’t be in between dimensions, only in one or the other. There is no way to reach him.”

Tony paces and thinks, fingers rubbing at his temples. Why is Stephen always in trouble when Tony comes to visit? “So… The thing it feeds off is magical energy while it’s keeping him in this state with replaying painful memories?” Tony clarifies. At Wong’s nod he continues, “Which are actual memories that are basically trapping Strange in between dimensions.” When Wong gives him another nod but a look that says, that’s as good as you’re going to understand it, Tony just shakes his head and presses on. “So, if we could, say… Erase some of those bad memories, or change them, he might come back?”

Wong frowns at Tony again. It’s quickly becoming his most hated expression of all. “It wouldn’t banish the creature, but it might loosen its grip enough for Stephen to fight it off.”

Tony nods, he can definitely work with that. “Alright, I’ll be right back. Can you open a portal to the compound?”

Wong nods and creates the portal. Tony quickly rushes down to his lab and picks up a few instruments and the BARF-system. When he heads back through the portal, Wong is pacing in front of the books.

“Got it,” Tony alerts Wong to his presence. He approaches to put the glasses he’s carrying on Stephen’s face, when Wong steps forward and interrupts him, “What are you planning, Stark?”

“This,” Tony wiggles the glasses in Wong’s face, “is BARF. Binarily Augmented Retro-framing. It hijacks the hippocampus. I built it to change traumatic memories, but this just might work. For starters, we should see what’s currently going on here memory-wise. We can move forward from there on out.”

The cloak flutters agitatedly and seems to be shaking its collar vehemently, but Tony promptly ignores it and puts the glasses on Stephen’s face. The cloak sinks into itself for a moment, then wraps even tighter around its master.

Tony scatters a few holographic devices around the room, then switches BARF on. He expects to see a car crash or hundreds of painful fights against Thanos, but the actual sight of what builds up around them makes him stop cold. The room around them turns into a vast, dark space, tendrils of dark blue and orange floating around them. Tony looks around surprised, wondering where this is. Is this what other dimensions look like?

When he’s turned almost halfway around his own axis, he spots Stephen, blood on his cheek and temple, green necklace glowing on his chest. The sorcerer stands tall, determined, the cloak billowing around him. When he follows Strange’s line of sight he thinks for a moment that his heart gives out. Gigantic, purple glowing eyes are staring down at him, a face whose black texture wafts outwards from the middle of it, an otherworldly feel to all of it.

“Dormammu,” Stephen yells and Tony’s heart sinks even further. This is the nightmare that had left him so shaken. This is what managed to frighten Stephen Strange.

He hears Wong breathe, “Oh no,” but focuses back on Stephen. Both Wong and him instinctively take a step closer.

“I’ve come to bargain!” Stephen exclaims.

Dormammu lets out a shout and with it comes a beam of bright purple energy. To Tony it looks a lot like the color of the power stone. Stephen throws up an orange shield, crouching behind it. He grunts, the beam pushing him backwards and after about five seconds he cries, the shield flickering. It takes another few seconds before it gives out, the beam thrusting into him, particles of the sorcerer scattering in all directions. Tony gapes at the spot where Stephen just stood.

There’s a shuddering sound, like machinery slowly grinding to a halt, before everything starts to reverse. Confused, Tony stares at the spot where the sorcerer is appearing again, time reversing to before Stephen spoke and him flying backwards on top of another ball of something dark floating around.

Then the same grating to a halt sound appears, time changing its direction once again. Tony wonders whether Strange is remembering the same scene over and over.

“Dormammu,” this time, Stephen sounds exasperated. It isn’t the same as before. “I’ve come to bargain.”

Dormammu’s booming voice seems to come from everywhere around them while he looks around at the space they’re in in confusion. “You… What is happening?”

“Just as you gave Kaecilius powers from your dimension, I brought a little power from mine. This,” Stephen holds up his arm which is encircled by a green ring, the same color as his necklace, “is time. Endless, looped time.”

Tony feels sick to his stomach. Dormammu’s voice raises, the volume making the structures around them shake violently. “You DARE!”

Stephen looks up and mutters, “Oh fuck,” before Dormammu’s hand smashes down on him. Tony squeezes his eyes shut and looks away.

Like before, time reverses to the moment where Stephen hops down to the plateau in front of Dormammu’s face. “Dormammu. I’ve come to bargain.” This time, Dormammu doesn’t even bother to reply, shards of stone piercing Stephen from below, a low pained gasp escaping the man before time rewinds again.

Tony tries to blend it out and steps over to Wong. “How long does this go on? When does this stop?”

Wong looks at him, usually stoic face distressed. “I don’t know. He has never talked about what happened here. He only said that Dormammu left. It was enough for us. If his memories are relived in a chronologic order though…” Wong trails off and swallows.

“What?” Tony asks impatiently.

“This… This was long before Titan and Thanos,” Wong answers.

Tony heaves for a second, doubling over. This is before fourteen million futures have even started. If Stephen has been at this point for three days… This creature will never come off on its own. It has found the perfect host. “How long? How long did it take until he was strong enough to defeat this guy?” Tony wheezes. Wong just shrugs helplessly.

Tony turns around to see Stephen attempt a spell. He recognizes the starting motion of what he used on Titan to produce a few dozen replicas of himself. This time though, only one slides out of him, wobbles and dissipates again as quickly as it came, followed by another painful death.

Tony averts his gaze. “He is practicing,” Tony states.

Wong nods and adds, “When he went to face Dormammu, he had only achieved to cast a handful of spells. When he came back, he surpassed all other masters.”

“We need to find a way to alter his memories. Either he does it himself, or we manage to control them remotely,” Tony explains his plan.

Wong nods again and says, “I will return to Kamar-Taj and search for applicable communication spells to reach him.”

Tony nods. “I’ll stay here and try to find a way to alter his memories from this side.”

When Wong’s gone, Tony sits at a small table in the corner of the attic, starting to tap at his computer. Despite the gruesome scenes playing out in front of him, one after the other, Tony can’t bring himself to turn BARF off. For some reason he feels like he would be leaving Stephen alone to suffer through this again. Maybe, this way, he’ll be able to help him after future nightmares. Because they will get him out of here. Tony scrubs at his face and settles in for a long day, and probably a long night after that.

A few hours in, Dormammu speaks again. Tony looks up, a little spark of hope glimmering, that these memories will end at this point. “You cannot do this forever,” Dormammu booms.

Stephen doesn’t even flinch. “Actually, I can. This is how things are now. You and me, trapped in this moment, endlessly.”

Dormammu floats closer, eyes narrowed in anger. “Then you will spend eternity dying!”

“Yes,” Stephen replies flatly, making Tony’s heart sink once again. By now he feels like it’s soon going to come out at the other side of the globe. “But everyone on earth will live,” Stephen continues.

Tony swallows around the lump in his throat. He should have realized earlier that Stephen would do anything it takes to save lives. Any path, no matter the cost. His heart swells with respect and adoration for this selfless man.

“But you will suffer!” Dormammu screams at him.

“Pain’s an old friend,” Stephen retorts. Dormammu rages and smacks him with another purple beam. Tony averts his eyes and focuses his attention back on the technology in front of him. The sooner he can get Stephen out of this, the better.

Tony works for hours and hours which turn into the next day. Whenever he looks up again, he sees that Stephen has improved. He casts different spells, spells that are steadier than before, spells that last longer. But they’re still a long way from Stephen defeating the monster before them.

The next time Dormammu speaks, Tony again can’t help but look up. Stephen’s panting on the ground, beaten and bloodied. “You will never win.”

“No,” Stephen states and Tony stares at him in shock. “But I can lose, again, and again,” Stephen pushes himself back up to his feet, breathing labored as he continues, “and again, and again, forever. And that makes you my prisoner.”

Tony grips the table hard. This… All of this. It was never about getting strong enough to defeat Dormammu. He’s just practicing his spells because there’s nothing else to do. Strange is waiting for Dormammu to take his deal, to be annoyed into leaving. Tony reaches up to rub his eyes, only for his hands to came back down wet. He’s aching to take this self-sacrificing, stupid, stoic man into a hug. He definitely will when he’s back.

A portal opens behind Tony and he turns around to see Wong step through. He looks surprised when he sees the seemingly never-ending battle between Strange and Dormammu still playing out but doesn’t mention it.

“Any progress?” Tony asks.

Wong shakes his head. “Anything on your side?” Tony mirrors his motion. Wong stays quiet for a moment. “I have a theory, based on another text I found. Maybe, the creature can be shaken loose by mixing memories from different times. It has been a linear progression, correct?” Wong asks and points at where Strange is standing.

“Yes, as far as I can tell. So, you think, if we can mix old painful memories and new painful memories, it will… What? Get that thing disoriented?” Tony replies.

Wong nods. “It is just a theory, but so far it’s the only thing we have come up with.”

Tony thinks about it for a while. He’s made a lot of progress in the last day and he’s confident that they can now find specific memories from Stephen’s brain and project them to the front of his mind using BARF. “Well, I guess I could extract memories and replay them. Anything that’s connected to pain. Friday, start scanning and filter memories from before the current memories and after.”

They wait in tense silence until Friday tells them that she’s finished. “Map them out,” Tony says. He takes a deep breath and looks at Wong. “Let’s do this,” he mutters. He taps on one of the memories that lie quite a while back. There’s a short moment and he sees Stephen’s pale body, still kneeling on the floor of the attic and held upright by the cloak, shudder violently.

Then their surrounding changes, darkness gives way to light, blue sky and snowy mountains. Wind is blowing more snow up around them. Stephen follows a bald woman through a portal. His hair’s matted and disheveled, long beard obscuring his face. He’s dressed in a light grey tunic with short sleeves, goosebumps immediately appearing on his skin. “Is this,” Stephen begins.

“Everest,” the woman replies. “Beautiful,” she says, smiling.

Strange rubs at his bare arms and huffs, “Yeah, right. Beautiful.”

His companion is dressed in a dark tunic, hands tucked into her pockets, stance relaxed. “In this temperature, a person can last for thirty minutes before suffering permanent loss of function,” she explains.

Strange shivers and replies with an annoyed eyeroll, “Great.”

“But you’ll likely go into shock within the first two,” the woman goes on thoughtfully before she turns around and heads back through the portal.

Strange furrows his brow, before he snaps, “What?”

“Surrender, Stephen,” the woman sing-songs, then the portal fizzes closed behind her. Stephen hurries after her, screaming no before he lands in the snow where her portal had just been.

Tony watches, shocked and fascinated at the same time. Stephen heaves himself back up, holding his arms out and moving them in a circular motion. Unlike what Tony has come to take as a given, only some minor sparks appear in the air, not a glowing portal. Stephen huffs and tries again. And again. And again.

His beard fills with ice that clings to the strands of his hair as well, shivering getting worse and worse, until eventually a wobbly, unsteady portal appears in front of Stephen. He falls through, frozen and shivering, landing on the ground of a courtyard in front of the bald woman and another man dressed in a green tunic.

Tony shakes his head and selects another memory. When it builds around them, he flinches, wishing he’d picked something else.

They’re on the Maw’s ship, Stephen slowly waking from unconsciousness, panting as he spots the sparkling needles surrounding him. “In all the time I have served Thanos, I have never failed him,” Maw says, approaching Stephen, who’s floating immobilized in the air. “If I were to reach our rendezvous on Titan with the time stone still attached to your vaguely irritating person, there would be… judgement,” Maw continues in an even voice.

The needles start to float closer and Stephen warily eyes one that pierces his cheek. He grunts a little, obviously trying to breathe through the pain, refusing to shut his eyes. More needles pierce his skin, glowing underneath it with a white light. “Give me the stone,” Maw says. Stephen faces him, staring straight into his eyes. Even when the screaming starts, Stephen doesn’t close his eyes.

Tony watches, fidgeting with his hands. Come on, come on, come on, he thinks. What the hell was taking them so long?

He knows the moment Stephen’s eyes settle just to the side of Maw’s head, that it’s time. “Painful, aren’t they? They were originally designed for microsurgery. And any one of them…” Maw trails off at the sound of Tony’s repulsors charging, turning around to face him. “Could end your friend’s life in an instant.”

“I gotta tell you, he’s not really my friend,” Tony hears himself say. “Saving his life is more of a professional courtesy.” Christ, he sounds like a dick, Tony thinks to himself.

Maw stalks toward him, levitating two chunks of metal beside him. “You save nothing. Your powers are inconsequential compared to mine.”

“Yeah, but the kid’s seen more movies,” Tony replies, shooting at the side of the ship. It blows a hole into the hull which sucks Maw out into space. Stephen is sucked out as well, needles swirling all around him. The cloak grabs onto him but doesn’t manage to hold the man and after a short moment he proceeds to rush towards the hole, only slowed by Peter shooting webs at him. Peter’s iron spider legs come out and settle on the edge of the hole, giving him enough leverage to pull himself and the sorcerer back into the ship. When Tony has sealed the hull, Stephen bumps into the pillars of the ship with a metallic thud.

Tony switches to another memory, further back in time again. “Is it working?” he asks, nerves drawn tight.

Wong is studying Strange, closing his eyes as runes appear which scan Stephen. “Yes,” Wong replies. “Its grip is loosening. Stephen is fighting it. Keep going!”

Tony flinches as the next memory starts with Stephen turning on his axis and a sparkling, almost transparent spike of who knows what piercing his chest. A man sprints up the stairs of the Sanctum and grabs Stephen by his shoulder, flinging him down. Stephen topples over the steps with a pained yell, struggling to an upright position at the bottom, away from the intruder who has blackened crusts around his eyes and a rune embedded in his forehead. Tony can hear the sound of Strange’s blood dripping onto the hardwood floor, then he falls over, his legs giving out. Stephen moans with pain, struggling to pull himself across the floor, away from the man stalking after him. Despite knowing that this is an old memory and Stephen survived it, Tony finds himself pressing his hand to his mouth in shock and silently begging for Stephen to _hurry_.

Stephen turns around just enough to see the man coming after him and tries to crawl faster, his forearms dragging him across the floor while his breath comes out in short, pained bursts. The man behind him forms another shard out of thin air, his pace unhurried as he follows the struggling sorcerer. He takes a big swing with the shard towards Stephen and Tony holds his breath. In the last moment, the formerly inactive cloak shoots away from Stephen’s shoulders and latches onto the other man’s head, flinging him against the wall and then repeatedly smashing his head into the floor while strangling him. Stephen looks at it, shocked. The sound of the cloak’s material flitting through the air sounds like angry screeching and Tony makes a mental note to tread more carefully around it in the future. 

The cloak keeps bashing the man from one side to the other until his ring comes loose, then flicks it across the floor to Stephen. Strange pulls on the ring and struggles upright with the help of the wall beside him, stumbling forward and starting to make the motion for a portal. He’s slouched forward where he stands, shaking all over and for a heartbreaking moment Tony thinks the portal won’t hold. But then it fizzes open, Stephen stumbling through into a trolley full of cleaning supplies. Everything clutters to the floor while Stephen stumbles through the doors into the hallway of a hospital.

He uses the wall to keep himself upright, smudging bloody handprints along it as he goes. A nurse approaches him worriedly. “Sir, can I help you?” Tony grunts into his hand. Do something already, his mind yells at the woman.

“Doctor Palmer, where is she,” Stephen squeezes out.

“Sir, we need to-” “Where is she!” Stephen yells at her.

The nurse pulls her hands up to her head, scared, before she replies, “the nurses’ station.”

Stephen stumbles further down the corridor, yelling as he goes, “Christine!”

“Stephen?” Christine asks surprised. When she sees him, she drops the clipboard she’d been carrying on the ground and hurries over to him. “Oh my god,” she exclaims, grabbing him by his arms and holding him up.

“You need to get me in an operating theatre, now. Just you,” Stephen says, leaning on another trolley for support.

“What-,” Christine starts, but is interrupted by Stephen’s insistent, “Now! I haven’t any time.” Stephen stumbles through the doors, leaning heavily on Christine for support.

“What happened?” she asks.

“Stabbed,” Stephen grunts out. “Cardiac tamponade,” he continues and then basically throws himself onto the stretcher with the last strength he has left.

Christine helps him turn on his back while she mutters, “What are you wearing?” Somehow, Christine reminds Tony of Pepper and despite the sting that leaves, he immediately likes the woman a little more. Christine rips open Stephen’s tunic, pushing the various belts to the side. Stephen’s breath rasps as Christine starts knocking at some points on his chest. “Chest cavity is clear,” she mutters.

Stephen’s voice is becoming increasingly slurred as he answers, “Blood… is in… The pericardial sac.” Then his head drops limply to the side and one of his arms slides of the stretcher, hanging from the side of his body.

“No, no, no, no, no, no! Stephen, _Stephen_!” Christine exclaims and shakes his shoulders with no result. She huffs and mutters, “oh my god,” as she pulls monitors over and attaches a sensor to Stephen’s chest below the wound. At the beeping sound of the heart rate monitor, Tony lets out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Christine hurries to a side table, preparing a syringe while she looks back at Stephen’s motionless form.

Tony flinches hard when he sees another Stephen fling out of the man’s body, before he recognizes his creepy ghost form, everything looking like it was dipped in a dark, blueish filter. Stephen flows next to his body on the opposite side of Christine. She starts pointing the syringe at Stephen’s chest, taking a deep breath and of course, Stephen chooses that moment to slip into her world, pushing through a collection of reflecting panels cramped into one another.

“Just a little higher,” he says, voice even deeper than usual.

Christine screams and jumps backwards into the table behind her. She looks at him, completely shocked, one hand raised to cover her mouth while the other is gripping the table.

“Please be careful with the needle,” Stephen says, hands held out in a placating manner. Tony shakes his head and grips his forehead.

Christine keeps staring at him before she hisses, “Stephen! W-What am I seeing?”

“My astral body,” Stephen replies unhelpfully, and Tony wants to laugh at the absurdity of this.

Christine looks between the two Stephens before she asks, “Are you dead?”

Stephen replies with an urgent tone, “No, Christine, but I am dying.”

Christine sucks in a deep breath before she mutters, “Right,” and steps back up to the stretcher. Stephen extends his astral hand into his physical chest, to help clear the view and the blood pool becomes visible as a glowing dark spot. “Oh, wow,” Christine breathes, before she carefully slides the needle into Stephen’s chest. “I’ve never seen a wound like this. What were you stabbed with?”

“I don’t know,” Stephen answers uncertainly.

When Stephen looks up and stares at the wall to the right of Christine’s head, Tony’s heart sinks because he too sees the man that stabbed Stephen floating into the room.

“I’m gonna have to vanish now,” Stephen says, not looking at Christine.

When Christine stares up at him with a confused, “what?” he looks back down.

“Keep me alive, will you?” With those words Stephen pushes back into the astral plane, disappearing from Christine’s view.

“Huh?” she breathes in confusion. “Okay.”

Above Stephen’s unconscious body, the astral forms start fighting. Strange kicks the other man in the face, flinging him backwards but the guy grabs the floor with half of his body already having descended through it and pushes himself back into the room. He punches Stephen, who only manages to pull up his arms defensively before he’s thrown into the glass wall behind him. The guy lands another punch to Stephen’s gut, then grabs him by the throat and tosses him to the other side of the room where Stephen just moves through the wall.

It sends a chill down Tony’s spine. Fucking ghosts, moving through walls.

Stephen rushes back to punch the other man again but is tossed backwards immediately, this time crashing into a cabinet. The men both get up and fly towards each other, meeting on top of Stephen’s unconscious body. The guy dressed in a red robe grabs Stephen and pushes him down on the same stretcher that his actual body is lying on, landing three solid punches to his face, before Stephen rolls them off of it.

They topple through Christine’s body, who is pulled backwards by their forms, cursing as she hurries back to steady the needle. The men keep fighting, throwing each other through the ground to the floor beneath and then spiraling through another three walls in quick succession as they fight for dominance. Strange manages to push the other man off of himself and into another wall, but the guy quickly uses it as leverage to propel himself forwards again. Stephen manages to dodge the first blow but is then pushed back into Christine's room with a kick to his stomach. After that, the guy grabs Stephen’s collar and lands a punch straight to his face, which knocks him out. Next is a roundhouse kick landing straight in Stephen’s jaw and Tony flinches again, hands hurting from the way he rings them. He wants to do something, tired of watching the man suffer without being able to help. The kick sends Stephen’s body doing a somersault in midair and Tony hears the heart monitor flatline. The intruder grips Stephen’s head with both hands and presses on it, while Christine is pulling the defibrillator over.

When the pads are applied to his chest and the electricity shoots through him, Stephen’s astral form opens his eyes and in a shower of orange sparks his body convulses, the other man being flung backwards as if an explosion just hit him. Christine turns around in shook when the table behind her slides across the room, flung away by the body she can’t see.

She focuses back on Strange and murmurs, “Stephen, come on.” There’s a short pause before Strange’s heart starts to beat again and Tony collapses onto the chair behind him, letting out the breath he’d been holding for way too long.

Stephen presses back into Christine’s dimension, snapping, “Hit me again.”

Christine sucks in a loud, horrified breath of air. “Stop doing that,” she hisses, pads still held in her hands.

Stephen ignores her and commands, “Up the voltage and hit me again.”

“Don’t… Your heart’s _beating_!” Christine exclaims.

“Just do it!” Stephen snaps, before he disappears again back into the astral plane and Christine stares at the spot where he just was.

“But I ahh…” Christine looks around before she lets out a pissed, loud sigh and charges the defibrillator to a higher voltage.

Stephen flings himself at the man that just starts coming back into the room and grabs him, pushing him into the wall. As Christine hits his body another time, Stephen starts to scream in pain, everything glowing with orange sparks around him while he focuses on the man in front of him. All the instruments around Christine start to shatter as an explosion of energy slides through the room. Stephen’s propelled backwards, in the spot where the other man was moments ago there’s only a scorched mark on the wall left.

Christine ducks behind the stretcher for a moment before she looks at Stephen, trying to recognize if he’s breathing since the heart monitor has given out as well. After a short pause, Stephen’s eyes snap open and his head shoots up, sucking in a loud breath. Christine screams again, flinching back hard from him. Strange is breathing harshly, groaning as he lets his head fall back against the stretcher. “Oh god. Are you okay?” Christine asks and Stephen groans once more, before he replies with a strangled, “Yeah.”

Tony switches to another memory when they both fall into silence, not wanting to spy on the intimate moment, despite his burning curiosity.

For a moment everything seems peaceful, green fields stretching out in front of Stephen. He looks thin, emaciated even and then Tony hears it. It’s the same sound as when Thanos appeared on Titan, as he uses the space stone. Stephen tries to move but within the fraction of a second, he’s immobilized, hovering in the air. Thanos has stepped out of the portal that the space stone has created, power stone glowing on his gauntlet.

Tony shivers when he hears the Mad Titan speak. “Thirty-one years you have made me chase you,” he booms, and Tony involuntarily shrinks in on himself. “I have tracked you across the galaxy while you played with my patience. This was always inevitable though. But for the time I have lost, I will make you suffer,” Thanos spits.

The stones on his gauntlet start to glow and Tony watches in horror as an invisible force starts pulling Stephen’s arms and legs in different directions. Stephen grits his teeth for what feels like forever to Tony before he starts to scream and the sound hits Tony right to the core. He clasps his hands over his ears as Stephen is literally ripped apart in front of him, the sounds of his suffering stretching for more than a minute. When it stops, it’s because Thanos has had enough and teleported the upper half of Stephen’s body a few feet away. Both parts of the man are dropped to the ground like a broken toy.

Not able to stand seeing any more, Tony switches to another memory, tasting bile in his mouth that he wrenches back down.

This time it’s dark again, rain drumming against the windshield of a car. Stephen’s at the wheel, speeding along winded roads. “That does sound interesting,” Stephen’s deep baritone rings out. “Can you send me the…” he trails off when his phone screen on the passenger seat lights up. “Got it,” he murmurs. He looks at the screen and furrows his brow at the picture he sees.

Stephen looks back up at the road for a moment, then back to the scan shown on his phone. In that moment, his car bumps slightly into the one he’s speeding past. Tony sucks in a deep breath as his car starts to spin. Stephen tries to control it, but the rear connects with a tree and the car twirls faster, right off the side of the road.

Tony freezes when the car spins around itself through the air, and Stephen’s head is knocked forward into the airbag. Even the memory is disorienting and if he wasn’t sitting, Tony thinks he would have toppled over from the scene around him. The car first connects with the ground head on, the front of the car pushed in violently. There’s metal creaking all around them and Tony spots the dashboard squishing Stephen’s hands between itself and the steering wheel they’re still gripping. The car somersaults five more times before it comes to a halt, held upside down by a fence. Water rushes in through the smashed windshield and Stephen closes his eyes, face bloodied and broken in a way Tony has never seen.

Tony picks another memory, fast forwarding to get a bigger time difference between the memories. “How much more?” Tony asks Wong, dreading the answer.

Wong shakes his head a little. “I’m not sure. I think it’s almost off.”

Tony nods and hopes that this is the last memory they’ll have to endure. The last they’ll have to put Stephen through again.

He groans when he sees Thanos in front of Stephen again, this time though, Tony is there too. Stephen is subdued by Thanos’ minions while the Titan’s got Tony’s head gripped tightly in one of his hands.

Tony stands up and gets closer, surprised to see a timeline that he’s in.

“I respect your ability to hide in a whole universe that’s looking for you,” Thanos says, looking between the both of them. “That’s why I’ll make it quick.”

“Wait,” Stephen pants. Thanos looks at him, intrigued. “Spare his life and I will give you the stone,” Stephen murmurs, defeated.

Thanos laughs out loud, before he looks down at Stephen. “No. This hunt for you, it has cost me everything. So, I will take everything that’s worth anything to you, and then I will get the stone,” Thanos replies, eyes narrowed at the sorcerer.

Stephen’s eyes are wide and glistening with unshed tears as he begs Thanos, “No, please. He didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Stephen struggles against his captors holding him down, only to be struck in the face, his head connecting harshly with the ground beneath him. Tony stares wide-eyed at Stephen, the broken voice and the tears completely taking him by surprise.

His head snaps back up when he hears his own voice talking. “Hey. Hey!” He sees himself wait until Stephen looks back up at him, before a warm smile spreads on his face. His hair has become greyer than it is now, and his brown eyes crinkle at the corners with fondness as he looks at Stephen. “It’s okay.” He smiles at him and Stephen smiles back weakly. There’s something passing between them, unspoken, Tony can see it in the flicker of his own eyes.

“I-,” he starts and then there’s a loud crunching sound followed by agonized screaming. Thanos smashes his head in his hand and Stephen screams, roars in pure agony. When he collapses onto the ground, one of his captors kicks him to the stomach, flipping him over. Stephen is shivering, blood running out of his eyes and nose.

Tony hears Wong suck in a sharp breath and hears the start of Thanos speaking again before the memory dissolves around them, hologram flickering out.

Tony blinks hard and stares at Strange, kneeling on the ground. The man’s whole body is shaking violently and the cloak clings to him in a desperate hold, the black in his eyes starting to zoom in and out, struggling for control.

“Do something!” Tony snaps but Wong just stares helplessly.

“There is nothing we can do. The creature has already drained too much of his energy,” Wong replies resignedly.

Tony freezes for a moment before he surges ahead and lets two gauntlets form at his hands. “Please, don’t let this be a bad idea,” he whispers before he presses them to Stephen’s chest and sends electricity through them. Stephen shudders from the shock, eyes clearing and then rolling back into his head. He slumps into the cloak’s embrace, breathing heavily. When his ocean eyes open again and settle on Tony, he breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Did you just tase me?” Strange huffs in a weak, trembling voice.

Tony lets out a hysterical chuckle and rubs his eyes. “It worked when Christine did it,” he answers.

Stephen catches his breath unfairly quickly and slips back into the controlled persona that Tony knows so well. Stephen straightens up and gets back on his feet, although Tony gets the impression the cloak has more to do with it than the sorcerer. Wong steps forward and stops in front of Stephen. They look at each other for a moment before they both nod, words passing unspoken between them.

Wong’s hands are clasped behind his back. “Do you need any help?” he asks, and Stephen shakes his head. “Good.” Wong contemplates something for a moment before he adds, “Come see me when you have rested.”

Strange sighs but nods again, both their faces unreadable to Tony. Wong turns toward Tony with another appreciative nod and a curt, “Thank you,” before he opens a portal and disappears.

Tony steps up to Stephen and picks up the glasses that’ve fallen to the floor. “Barf?” Stephen asks with an interested look.

Tony looks up at the man surprised. “You know about it?”

Stephen huffs with an air of annoyance before he replies, “I was a neurosurgeon. Of course I know about it. It’s incredible.”

Tony grins at him and holds the glasses out. Stephen takes them and puts them back on, his excitement palpable. The room around them transforms and Tony looks around, seeing the New York skyline spread out before them. He recognizes Stephen’s astral form and the one of the woman that left him on Everest. They’re both looking at the sky, time standing still. A helicopter is frozen midair like it’s merely hovering. Lightning stretches slowly over the clouded sky and snow falls down from it, defying the otherwise frozen still scenery.

Within a few seconds, Stephen lowers the glasses again and hands them back to Tony. His smile is radiant, and Tony feels his chest warm at the sight.

The cloak flutters around Stephen importantly and prods his cheek a few times with its collar. Tony throws it a questioning glance and Stephen clears his throat. “Well, I should actually get some rest,” he murmurs and Tony nods. “Just… How much of this did you see?” Stephen asks and then points at the glasses in Tony’s hands.

“Since that gigantic purple dude. You know you’re a self-sacrificing idiot, right?” Tony replies.

Stephen huffs again and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s rich coming from you,” he retorts.

The cloak takes that moment to interrupt them by forcefully bundling Stephen up in its folds and levitating him off the ground. “Alright, alright,” he grumbles.

Tony laughs at the sight of the man cradled like a big baby, before he chirps, “I’ll leave you to it then.” He collects his sensors while the cloak floats Stephen in the direction of the bedrooms.

***

Tony wakes up when Dormammu’s hand smashes down on the sorcerer, jumping up in his bed, breathing ragged. Before he’s consciously aware of what he’s doing, the suit has already formed around him and he’s taking off towards the Sanctum.

He forcefully crashes through the front door, suit clunking up the stairs hurriedly. His breathing is still harsh and quick when he runs into the man he’s looking for, who suddenly appears in the hallway in front of him.

“Tony,” Stephen mutters, trying to catch the heavy suit from falling. “What on earth are you doing?”

Strange is wearing pajama pants that hang low on his waist and the cloak is wrapped around his bare shoulders, hair sticking up in all directions and eyes looking sleepy.

Tony taps on his chest to retract the suit around him and grabs onto Stephen’s extended arms while he stares up at the man. “I-I just… I thought… FUCK,” Tony stutters, pressing one palm to his eye. “Just give me a moment,” Tony wheezes through his harsh breathing.

Stephen waits patiently in front of him, one of Tony’s hands still grabbing his arm. When Tony gets his breathing back under control and lets go of Stephen, the other man steps behind him and mutters a quick spell to repair the busted front door. Afterwards he turns back around and only utters a curt, “Follow me.”

Tony does as he’s told, eyes glued to the man’s back, moving in a very _alive_ way. Stephen’s bare feet quietly tap against the hardwood floor, followed by the same tapping noise from the mechanic. Since he immediately flew off upon waking, Tony’s still dressed in his sweatpants and tank top, hair equally mussed as Stephen’s.

Tony’s surprised when they pass the kitchen and Stephen still keeps walking, since he thought that’d be where they’re headed. He doesn’t complain though, grateful that the sorcerer isn’t kicking him back out.

When they reach Stephen’s room, Tony stops uncertainly in the doorframe. He watches as Stephen opens a closet and pulls out a wine-red pillow and blanket, then throws them onto the vacant side of the bed. Stephen moves back to his side of the bed and lays down, the cloak pulling the blanket up to his shoulders and then draping itself over it.

“Come on Tony,” Stephen mumbles. “We both need rest and you look like you’re not going to get any if you can’t check I’m still alive.”

Stephen’s eyes are already closed, and Tony only hesitates another moment before he closes the door and lays down next to Stephen, detaching the nano-housing unit and placing it on the nightstand before drawing the second blanket over himself. Tony settles on his side and gazes at the man next to him. His cheekbones look softer in the barely lit room and his smell engulfs Tony, making him relax.

“Whose place am I taking away?” Tony asks quietly. He feels more insecure than he has in a long time. He shouldn’t have peeked into all those memories that Stephen had relived. He didn’t have permission to see something so private and now he’s here, bothering the man even further with the knowledge he shouldn’t have, and of course, Stephen just immediately knows what Tony’s issue is.

“Nobody’s,” Stephen answers tiredly, “Stop overthinking. And stop staring.”

“Sorry. I can leave,” Tony mumbles.

Stephen sighs and cracks one eye open to look at Tony. “Don’t. I get it.” Stephen takes a deep breath before adding, “I felt the same after I saw you die in so many futures.”

Tony is taken aback by that statement and the soft smile that Stephen gives him. “You never said anything,” Tony whispers, the intimacy of the moment and the remnants of the panic attack completely drowning out his usual sarcasm and defensiveness.

Stephen turns his head to fully look at Tony, shrugging after a moment. “You didn’t know me. There wasn’t really an opportunity to say anything.”

Tony watches Stephen intently, notices the brief flicker of something painful in his eyes. “But you knew me,” Tony mutters and Stephen nods.

Silence falls between them for a moment, before Stephen speaks up again. “The last memory. Did you see it?” His voice is strained, and Tony isn’t quite sure why the man brings it up, but Tony wants to know and will take whatever crumbs of information he can get. Granted, considering his most recent nightmare, that might be a terrible idea, but nothing could ever keep Tony away from knowledge.

“Yeah. That wasn’t Titan,” Tony notes and Stephen shakes his head. Even in the dark, Tony recognizes that the sorcerer’s eyes are glazed over and distant.

“When Thanos arrived on Titan, we managed to piss him off royally. We got closer in retrieving the gauntlet than in this timeline. But the result was a furious outburst of energy. Thanos killed all except the two of us instantly after that, using the four stones he already had. I managed to slow time with the eye, and we made it off Titan, but just barely.”

Tony tracks the shudder that runs through Stephen with his eyes. He wants to reach out and offer some comfort but isn’t sure that touch is the best option for that. He remembers how Stephen had flinched away after his own panic attack and keeps his hand to himself.

“Eventually, we agreed that keeping the stone from Thanos would be the safest bet. We travelled across the galaxy with Thanos and his army on our tail.” Stephen trails off and Tony wonders what exactly Stephen sees in front of himself right now. After a while Stephen blinks and clears his throat, his eyes settling on Tony’s. “We were on the run for more than nine years before they caught up with us.”

Tony draws in a sharp breath at that information. “Just the two of us?” Tony asks. He can’t imagine how well they must’ve known each other after such a long time spent together. It explains the warm smiles they shared in Stephen’s memory, the seemingly silent conversation.

“Yes,” Stephen confirms. “We were both equally distrustful of anyone we didn’t know,” he adds with a wry smile.

Tony huffs out a laugh. He can definitely imagine that. “Were we good friends?” he asks quietly, watching the emotions that show on Stephen’s face at the question.

Stephen takes a moment to consider his answer. “Yes, in the end. But it took us a few years to get to friendly interactions at all.” When Tony looks at him in surprise Stephen clarifies, “We are both very stubborn.” Tony chuckles at that assessment and Stephen rewards him with a genuine smile in return.

Tony feels something warm spread in his stomach at the sight, his own mouth twisting into a matching smile. When Stephen closes his eyes again and looks like he’s drifting off to sleep, Tony closes his as well.

He tries to control the twitch in his fingers but still blurts his next thoughts only a few moments later, eyes immediately snapping back open to regard the other man. “Any partners from other timelines you’re waiting on?”

Stephen sighs, eyes remaining closed. “Sleep,” he grumbles.

“It’s just, I barely know anything about you!” Tony protests.

Stephen cracks one eye open to critically look at Tony. “And you want to get to know me by my potential partners?” he asks skeptically, low baritone rumbling through the room.

It sends goosebumps down Tony’s arms, but he ignores them. “Yeah. Come on slowpokes, how many were there?”

Stephen sighs in exasperation before he divulges unhappily, “Two.”

“Two?!” Tony exclaims. “Fourteen million futures and you had _two_ other people at your side.”

Stephen grumbles something unintelligible, before he answers, “Being stuck on Titan wasn’t really the ideal starting position to be dating. There were only a few hundred timelines where I made it back to earth at all. On top of that, being the Sorcerer Supreme doesn’t really leave much opportunities for a relationship.”

Tony nods contemplatively at that. “Yeah, superheroing doesn’t go that well with a normal relationship. So, tell me about those two then. Could you find them now?” Tony asks. Despite his casual tone, Tony’s heart beats rapidly, afraid of the answer. He realizes that he doesn’t want the sorcerer to be with anyone. Well. With anyone other than Tony. It’s one of the things he’s come to realize since Wanda’s magic is gone.

The mechanic presses that thought back down quickly, firmly stomping on the little sparks of hope rising in himself. There is a long silence and if not for Stephen’s open eyes staring at the ceiling, he might think the sorcerer has fallen asleep.

“Yes,” Stephen breathes eventually.

“And?” Tony prods before he can stop himself.

Stephen takes a few deep breaths before he replies to Tony’s inquiry. “Clea,” he murmurs so quietly it’s barely audible. Tony carefully watches the unnaturally blank look in Stephen’s eyes. “In the timelines I did meet her, we usually hit it off quickly, but it never ended well. She became my disciple and I trained her to fight Thanos with us. But in the end, there were only ever two ways our relationship ended.” Tony watches a small tear trickle down Stephen’s almost immobile face and swallows uncomfortably. “We got married and then either Dormammu killed her to get to me, or she switched sides, ruling alongside him, her uncle, in the Dark Dimension, eventually killing me. For good.”

Tony sucks in a sharp breath and reaches a hand out instinctively, unable to hold back any longer, softly caressing Stephen’s upper arm through the blanket. “I’m sorry,” Tony whispers.

He wonders, if he knew that Pepper might eventually kill him, would he still marry her given the chance? He isn’t sure what he would do. Would it be better to have a few happy years or be alone for a long time? Could he even be happy with the knowledge of what was coming?

“How long would you have with her before it all goes to hell?” Tony asks, trying to get the input to allow him to weigh both options.

Stephen is silent for a moment before he answers, “Not long enough to justify the outcome. I have a duty to this world as Sorcerer Supreme and for a long time there will be nobody else capable of taking on that mantle.”

Tony stares at the sorcerer in shock as his words sink in. He will sacrifice his own life and happiness again for the good of others. Like when he was facing Dormammu, putting everything else above his own wellbeing.

“It’s not fair! I can’t believe I have to say this to you of all people, but you need to think of yourself sometimes!” Tony rages, voice only raising a little bit in the silence of their dark room.

Stephen chuckles a little, self-deprecatingly, before he retorts, “It’s not about me. Either way this would end, it would destroy me and leave earth undefended.”

Tony feels his anger bubbling hotly beneath his skin, trying hard to keep his voice steady as he says, “Okay, first: You’re not the only one defending earth and not everything is up to you! There’re other sorcerers in your little Himalayan Hogwarts. And second: You’re just going to ignore her? Clea?”

Stephen winces a little when Tony utters her name, but shakes his head nonetheless. “Yes. I have to, if I don’t, hundreds of people will die, I’ve seen it. There really is no choice to make.”

“But…” Tony starts, unsure what he actually wants to tell the other man. “Maybe I can help you and things will be different. We could-” Stephen quickly interrupts him, “Tony. I’ve already made my choice. I can’t risk it. And…” Stephen trails off for a while, staring into the darkness out the window of his room. “Knowing what I know, I don’t think I could ever look at her the same as I did before. I haven’t even met her, but I’ve already lost my trust in her.”

Hearing the resignedness of Stephen’s voice, seeing the quiet suffering in his face as he admits defeat, Tony can feel his heart break into a million small pieces. Life isn’t treating this man fairly, this selfless man who gives up everything he has to offer for the good of others, without ever getting anything back. This man who suffers alone in this dark mansion, putting himself between earth and all that mean to harm it. It takes Tony a lot of strength not to scream out loud in rage, hug the man in sympathy, kiss him in desperation for willing something good on him. -Tony is a good kisser, he knows that very well-

Suddenly he can hear Thanos’ words in his head again, but where they sounded empty before, he thinks he understands them now. ‘You’re not the only one who’s cursed with knowledge.’ Jesus, if knowledge would ever be a curse, it would be in this instance. Knowing every wretched outcome of the decisions you will make, confining yourself to loneliness and pain to go out of their way.

“What about the other person?” Tony asks, hoping against his instinct screaming at him, that this will be less of a disaster, that this might cast a ray of sunshine on this man’s bleak life.

Stephen is silent for a long time, but Tony waits for him to answer, not interrupting the other man’s thoughts.

“It sometimes ended in one or both of us dying but… Never because I couldn’t trust them.”

Tony is thrown off track a little by Stephen’s use of them. Was this not a human? Maybe an alien race? Maybe it simply hurts too much to talk about her normally? He ignores it for the time being, following Stephen’s example.

“That’s good right? Where are they, can you find them?” he asks, wondering how far away this person would be. Hopefully not another trip as long as the journey back home from Titan.

“Yes, they’re on earth,” Stephen interrupts his thoughts. Tony stutters for a moment. _On earth._ They’re within reach, he could meet them whenever. Stephen could slip through his fingers, the only person that makes time for him at the moment. He swallows his dread back down, this isn’t the time to be selfish. Whatever he can do for Stephen, the man deserves it.

He takes a moment to plaster cheerfulness on all of his features and his voice before he answers, “That’s brilliant! If you don’t know where, just tell me the name and I’ll find her for you.”

Stephen ignores Tony’s little slip, heart pounding wildly in his chest. It’s better if Tony doesn’t know. Tony has Pepper and Stephen doesn’t want to ruin that, he can’t. He collects himself before he answers in a voice that hopefully gives nothing away, “They’re happy with someone else already. I think it’s better that way.”

Tony’s racing mind comes to a stuttering, blank halt. “What?! No, that’s bullshit! You deserve to be happy! Maybe you’re better for them.” Dread is settling deep in his stomach. God, why is this life? Hasn’t Stephen been through enough? Tony sees the pained expression on Stephen’s face, sees the way he desperately tries to hide it, hide the weakness from slipping onto his features and Tony’s heart breaks even more. He had thought that Stephen was cruel for putting him through this future, this timeline, but he never would have thought that it’s such a cruel one to the man himself. Every new bit of information Tony finds, just seems like another brick stacked onto Strange’s shoulders, with no way to ease the weight he is carrying.

Again, Stephen’s low voice interrupts Tony’s thoughts. “I still have the memories. It has to be enough. And who knows,” he continues with a wry smile in Tony’s direction, “maybe there’s someone for me in the 50% that came back.”

Tony regards him for a moment, the glassy eyes, the wobbly smile that doesn’t reach them. “Do you believe that?”

There’s a huff from Strange and his fake smile slips from his face as he replies with a solemn, “Not really, no.”

Silence settles between them, Stephen doesn’t have anything else to say and Tony thinks of ways to get the sorcerer out, get him to meet people. Well… And maybe find out if he’s swinging both ways. Then Tony would definitely have one option ready for the guy, he thinks miserably.

“We should sleep now. I don’t know about you, but my magical energy is drained, and I need to rest to recharge it,” Stephen disrupts the silence after a few minutes.

Tony nods, giving Stephen a sad smile. He almost forgot what Stephen had been through that day. The previous days. It seemed to be a constant state of suffering whenever he was around the guy. If Tony couldn’t change the love life aspect, he told himself to at least improve this, to help the man fight his battles and make sure he doesn’t get back injured every time.

“Okay. Good night, Stephen,” Tony mumbles. In his head, he already imagines what they will face together, the new species he’ll have to fight when siding with Strange, the improvements he’ll have to add to his suit.

“Good night, Tony,” Stephen answers in a soft voice, barely disrupting the quiet surrounding them, closing his eyes to slip back into sleep.

Tony still lays on his side, closing his eyes as well. His hand is still resting against Stephen’s right arm, where he placed it to provide comfort. Stephen hasn’t mentioned it or pushed it away, so Tony deems it save to let it rest there, the warmth of the other man reassuring his frayed nerves.

After a few minutes he hears a rustling sound and shortly after that he feels pressure against his butt. First, it’s merely a weight settling on top of him, until suddenly, there’s an unmistakable squeeze.

“Doc?” Tony asks uncertainly.

Stephen sighs, being interrupted again before he can drift off. “What?” he snaps unpleasantly, desperately craving sleep.

“You wouldn’t happen to be squeezing my ass at the moment, would you?” Tony retorts. His eyes are open, looking at Strange who lays completely still beside him. Tony doesn’t dare to move, doesn’t dare to turn around and look at what is _clinging_ to his ass by now, squeezing periodically and rubbing his skin through the clothing. Who knows what weird creatures are living in this mansion. For a moment Tony wonders if there’s anything like the suitcase from Fantastic Beasts residing behind one of the many Sanctum doors.

“No?” Stephen answers him in confusion, opening his eyes and turning his head to regard the mechanic. “What…” he starts, the sound turning into an exasperated groan and a snapped, “Stop!”

Tony feels the weight lift from his backside and misses the pleasantness of it despite his horror at that statement. In his defense, it’s been a while since Pepper left him. He sees soft red material moving in the dark, hears the rustling of it shifting against the blankets, retreating back to Stephen’s side of the bed.

“Is that your cape?” Tony asks, confused. He can make out the shape of it, see the crossed corners of its material. It looks like it’s pouting. “Was your cape feeling me up?” Tony yelps in realization.

Stephen sighs again, motioning for the cloak to lie back down. “It’s a cloak. And it’s… touchy. It likes you.”

“What’s not to like?” Tony answers instinctively, watching the red material lay on top of Stephen and cling to him with interest. He cautiously pulls his own hand away from the sentient fabric. It wiggles around agitatedly, shifting against the length of Stephen’s body, wrapping around him like a tight cocoon. Stephen’s brows furrow in annoyance as he tries to loosen it, which only makes it cling tighter to him and Tony thinks he sees one of its corners slip beneath the sorcerer.

“ _Stop!”_ Stephen exclaims again, now wriggling against the cloak’s hold with all of his body.

“Wow,” Tony grins at the scene before him. “It likes you too. Just how sentient is your cape? Oh my god,” he breathes in realization. “Is it a kinky cape?” Tony asks with mischief lacing his voice.

“Tony,” Stephen mutters in a warning tone, still struggling against the cloak.

“Have you had sex with it? I mean like… Is it getting you off?” Tony asks intrigued, watching the surprisingly entertaining struggle in front of him.

“Tony!” Stephen warns with more force, the struggle between the man and his cloak escalating into a scuffle.

Tony ignores Stephen’s protest in favor of teasing the man. “Because it seems to be _very_ touchy. And you let it sleep on top of you. Is it a magical friends with benefits thing?”

Stephen manages to wrangle his hands free, wincing slightly as he bats the cloak’s corners away, which have started softly caressing his cheeks while the lower half of it has opted to shift up and down the sorcerer’s middle.

“We are not talking about this!” Stephen snaps, grabbing the cloak at two corners and flinging it across the room, where it connects with the wall. It turns back towards Stephen but stays where it is, folding two corners over each other, giving a perfect impression of pouting, turning its collar slightly upwards and facing away from them.

Tony has now propped his head up on one hand, grinning cheekily at the sorcerer, taking in his ruffled appearance. “So, that means there is something to talk about here,” he states calmly, grinning wider when Stephen shoots him a glare.

“One more word and I will unleash my kinky cloak on you,” Stephen grumbles and Tony chuckles at his annoyed tone. The sound dies in his throat when the cloak soars over, stopping at the end of the bed. Its collar moves up and down like it’s giving Tony a thorough once over and he shudders a little, drawing his blanket more snugly around himself, eyeing the floating garment suspiciously.

Stephen fixes the cloak with a deathly glare before he warns, “Touch him again and I will turn you into a sloth.” Tony frowns at Stephen, while the cloak raises his collar upwards and shakes it from side to side, the accompanying eyeroll easily imaginable.

“A sloth?” Tony repeats curiously.

Stephen is still glaring at the cloak when he answers, “Too slow to grab anyone’s ass before they’re gone.” When Tony sees the repulsed shudder that runs through the cloak he can’t help but laugh.

“Can you actually do that?” he asks when his giggles have subsided, eyeing Stephen with interest.

“Yes.”

“Can you-” Tony starts but Stephen quickly interrupts his question, “I will not turn Rogers into a frog. Or Wilson into a pigeon.”

Tony pouts a little. “How did you know I was going to say that?”

Stephen sighs, eyes rolling exaggeratedly before he replies, “You’ve already asked me this in forty-three timelines and the answer is still no.”

“Was there one where you did it? If so, I demand you show me that one at least,” Tony quickly plows on.

“That’s an abuse of technology,” Stephen murmurs.

“Not if I made and own the technology,” Tony objects, grinning at Stephen.

“I’m not your private theatre,” Stephen grumbles annoyedly, glancing sideways at Tony. When he sees the gleam in the mechanic’s eyes though, his resistance almost caves. For a moment he thinks Tony might lean over and kiss him, reminded of the small bunk they shared on their third spaceship and the intimate moments they shared in it.

Tony sees the exact moment Stephen spaces out, eyes glazing over with a faraway look, breath hitching. Tony studies his body language carefully, the way Stephen leans almost imperceptibly closer, the way wetness gathers in his eyes, glinting in the moonlight, the way his lips part slightly, tongue darting out to wet them. Tony can feel his own breath hitch, fighting the urge to lean forward and capture those perfect cupids bow lips.

Suddenly Stephen starts blinking quickly, eyes clearing back up, and leans back from Tony, clearing his throat. The mechanic feels disappointment settle deep in his stomach, when he sees Stephen’s wall snap back into place, hiding all emotions and vulnerability back behind a carefully crafted mask. Tony is good at doing that, but Stephen really takes the cake when it comes to looking perfectly in control in every instance. It makes another thought occur to Tony again.

“Doc, how old exactly are you?” he asks, eyeing the sorcerer, who just replies with a curt, “Rude.”

“Seriously,” Tony adds, looking at the other man patiently.

“Forty-one,” Stephen says, voice neutral, face not giving anything away.

Tony rolls his eyes and tilts his head.

Stephen sighs as he decides to be honest. “I’m not sure. It’s hard to keep track of that much information and some things blend together. My best guess is about ten millennia, but it might be more.”

Tony swallows, trying to sort through his feelings. Somehow, he thinks it should make a bigger difference to him, but when he looks over he just sees Stephen, a man who is hurt but hides it behind snarky comments and a cool exterior, who gives his own life to save others, who smiles at him warmly every time Tony laughs.

“Well, at least you’ve aged really well, old man,” Tony says, grinning at Stephen easily. When the sorcerer spots his genuine expression, the tension he’d held before bleeds out of his shoulders and he relaxes back into the mattress, chuckling softly. It makes Tony’s skin tingle pleasantly all over.

The cloak flits over from his previous position at the foot of the bed to lay across Stephen again, this time broadly spreading out on top of the man and then keeping still. Stephen’s face is disrupted by a yawn and he slumps back into the bed, eyes fluttering closed.

Tony smiles warmly at the burned-out body beside him, enjoying how his face slips into a more peaceful expression than he’s ever seen on him.

“Good night, Stephen,” Tony says quietly, settling back into the bed as well, head still turned to the side, so he can watch the man next to him and enjoy this precious moment.

There is a long pause before Stephen sleepily slurs, “G’night.”

Tony drifts off wishing this isn’t the last time he sleeps in one bed with this beautiful, selfless creature beside him.

Tony wakes slowly, stretching lazily, feeling more rested than he has in months. He keeps his eyes closed for a few moments, reveling in the relaxed feeling of waking up without an alarm sounding or a nightmare rousing him. When he does open his eyes, it’s easy to adjust to the soft morning light that’s streaming in through the window. He notices that the other side of the bed is empty, so he turns to look around the room, but the sorcerer isn’t in sight. The door of the room is slightly ajar, and he spots the cloak hovering at the foot of the bed again, waving one corner at Tony in greeting when he focuses on it.

“Good morning,” Tony mumbles, throwing back the blanket and swinging his legs out of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand. Despite Stephen not being here, the presence of his sentient cloak is enough to make him feel comfortable and more importantly, not alone.

The cloak flies over to the door where it waits for Tony, making a come here motion with one of its corners, urging Tony to follow it. Tony pushes himself up of the mattress and runs a hand through his messy hair before he follows the cloak out the door and down the corridor, bare feet freezing slightly from the cool floor.

When they approach the kitchen, the smell of coffee wafts towards him, making Tony groan in anticipation, and the muffled sounds of a conversation become clearer the closer he gets. He can hear Stephen’s baritone rumble from the small room, “What are you missing?”

“PE,” a young chipper voice answers, causing Stephen to snort, from the bubbly sound of it right into his cup.

“Okay. What else?” Stephen questions the other guy.

“Math.”

Tony recognizes the voice just before he rounds the door frame to the kitchen, steps quickening at the familiar tone.

“You know the drill,” Stephen mutters, waving a hand at Peter while he sips from his coffee.

Tony skids to a halt in front of the table, glaring down at the kid, barking, “ _What_ are you doing here?!”

Peter shoots up in his chair, big eyes staring at Tony, knocking his own cup over in the process, which is only saved from spilling its contents all over the table and the books placed on it by the cloak grabbing it and placing it back on the table, further away from Peter than before. “Oh my god! Mister Stark!” Peter exclaims in shock.

“Kid, you should be at school!” Tony shouts back, pointing a threatening finger at Peter, frowning at the schoolbooks spread out on the kitchen table in the process. “What is this?” the mechanic asks in confusion.

Peter still stares at Tony open-mouthed, when Stephen butts in to answer Tony’s question, “He’s doing his homework and everything he’s currently missing by not being in school.”

Tony wants to rant and ask why the hell Peter is doing his work here instead of a classroom full of people his age when his attention is drawn away by an orange mandala hovering over a scrape on Peter’s arm and another spinning slowly above his abdomen, which is covered under a dark hoodie.

Peter twitches nervously in his seat under Tony’s scrutinizing gaze. “And what’s that?” Tony asks, pointing at the glowing mandalas hovering over Peter’s body.

“Nothing, that’s-,” Peter starts but he’s interrupted by Stephen’s dry, “a healing rune.”

The sorcerer still sits in his chair completely relaxed, cup clasped in both hands and sipping lazily at it, seemingly unbothered by the tension in the room. Tony on the other hand is very much bothered by the situation.

“ _Why_ does he need a healing rune?!” Tony fumes at the two people in the room.

Peter is about to answer that, but Stephen is faster. “Because he got beat up when he intervened in a bank robbery on his way to school,” he replies matter-of-factly.

Peter looks between the two adults with an annoyed frown. “Guys, I’m right here,” he mumbles, trying to catch their attention. Tony makes a shushing motion with his hands towards him, completely focused on the man that will give him more accurate answers.

“And what’s _the drill_?” Tony asks pointedly.

Stephen looks at him completely unfazed as he answers, “I heal him and as long as I do, he works on what he’s missing at school.”

Tony gapes at the older man, still sipping at his cup blissfully relaxed. “How often does this happen?” Tony sputters.

Peter quickly starts speaking loudly, “It’s really not that often,” when Stephen buts in again, his deep voice easily overshadowing the teenagers rambling, “Weekly.” Peter throws his hands up in exasperation while Tony stares at them in utter shock.

“Stephen!” Peter whines loudly at the sorcerer’s admission.

“What the-,” Tony’s head snaps back from Peter to Strange, “Why are you _Stephen_?”

Stephen raises a questioning eyebrow at Tony. “Because that’s my name?” he suggests with a smug smirk.

Peter chooses that moment to disrupt them, correcting, “Eeeeh, no. It’s because you said you would trap me in the mirror dimension inside my classroom, tied up, for a week, if I called you Doctor Strange one more time.”

Tony starts laughing loudly and clasps Stephen on the shoulder before he sinks into the chair next to him, grinning when Stephen waves a cup over to him with one hand, which immediately fills with coffee. “Thanks,” Tony says, eagerly downing half of the steaming cup in one go.

Peter looks between them with a frown on his face. “Shouldn’t you be more offended that he’s threatening me?” he asks in Tony’s direction.

Stephen chuckles when Tony starts to look like a poked bear, rambling, “First, school is where you should be! As much as I appreciate you picking up the slack by learning here, you should actually be there, and second, Stephen is like a half-baked cookie. Tough on the outside but actually a real softie. He’d never torture you like that.”

Tony grins at the glare the sorcerer shoots him, leaning back in his seat and sipping at his own coffee. After a while a matching smirk slips onto Stephen’s face and he murmurs, “You weren’t so sure of that last night when my cloak attacked you.”

As if called, the cloak soars over and settles onto Tony’s shoulders, with more weight than Tony anticipated, making him sag a little in his chair.

Peter’s frown deepens and his head tilts in concentration as he analyses the picture in front of him. Stephen looks less uptight around Tony than he did back when they were on Titan, soft smile on his face while he stares slightly ahead as if lost in memories.

From the few times other people visited while Peter was at the Sanctum, he knows that Stephen usually doesn’t let his guard down around people, and he only let Peter in when he admitted that he had nightmares from the soul stone, struggling to deal with everything that happened. Stephen’s face had softened at the vulnerability on Peter’s and he’d finally stopped sending Peter away at the door, instead helping him sort through his memories and listening to Peter ramble about his fears, about school, about the girl he had a crush on and the nights he spent out as Spiderman.

The first time Peter had shown up injured was out of pure panic. He had been shot and didn’t know where else to go, unable to find a reasonable excuse for it if he were to go to a hospital and afraid that Tony might find out about it, because he probably had Friday looking for that kind of news twenty-four-seven. But the bullet hadn’t left his shoulder on the other side and the thought of leaving it inside or trying to pull it out himself was even scarier.

So, he had ended up on the Sanctum’s doorstep at four am, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Stephen had, of course, immediately spotted the injury, and waved Peter inside with a sigh, starting to clean the wound and extracting the bullet in complete silence. Peter’s heart had beat rapidly, afraid of the man’s reaction, thinking he would call him out on it. Instead, Stephen had bandaged his shoulder, stared at him seriously for a moment and then made him promise to go to a hospital should he ever be seriously injured and otherwise come seek out Stephen to take care of his injuries. Which was how Peter became a regular guest at the Sanctum in the early hours of the morning.

Analyzing Tony comes as just as big a surprise to Peter. His mentor is completely relaxed, sitting in the sorcerer’s kitchen barefoot, in sweats and a washed-out shirt, no nanobot-housing unit attached to his chest, instead Stephen’s cloak settled on his shoulders and Tony petting one side of the collar fondly while sipping on the coffee he holds in his other hand, observing Stephen with a small but genuine smile on his face. Tony looks more relaxed and happier than he has since before Titan.

Peter is one of the few people who know Tony and Pepper have split up and despite Tony trying to hide it from him, he’s seen how hard it hit Tony and has tried to make more time to come by the lab and cheer the mechanic up. Right now though, Tony looks utterly… content.

Something inside Peter lights up with recognition, the fact that Tony has apparently spent the night clicking into place, and he sits upright, sparing one last glance at Stephen before he turns to Tony, who’s currently sipping at his magically refilled coffee cup.

“Mister Stark, you would tell me if you had a boyfriend, right?” Peter asks with a pointed stare.

Tony chokes, spluttering coffee all over himself and Peter’s books while he snaps forward, the cloak shaking its collar before bumping against the mechanic’s back a few times. Peter looks at him with big, expectant eyes, and Stephen hides his snort and mischievous smile inside his own cup.

When Tony has finished coughing, he croaks in a sore voice, “What?”

Peter quickly explains, “You know, you obviously slept here, and you look happy and everything.”

Tony quickly starts talking before Peter can state more apparent facts that he’s so far hoped Stephen hadn’t noticed. “Okay, kid, who I have a relationship with is none of your business.”

Stephen regards Tony with an interested look, the fact that he hasn’t denied anything going on immediately standing out to him and making his heart flutter. Nevertheless, he’s surprised that Peter would draw that conclusion, since he’s quite close to Tony, so he must know that Tony is with Pepper, right? Stephen can’t remember ever experiencing a timeline where Tony and Pepper had an open relationship.

“Yes, it is,” Peter interrupts Stephen’s thoughts, making both other men look at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?” Tony retorts.

“Well you need someone to make sure that the next person you fall for is good for you. That’s me, right?” Peter continues.

Tony snorts in amusement, grin settling on his face before he asks, “Okay, let’s pretend that notion isn’t completely ridiculous. Is Stephen good enough for me?”

Peters face turns a bright red color as he starts to stammer, looking between both men in horror. Tony’s head is leaned on his hands, elbows placed on the table, staring intently at Peter, while Stephen still sits relaxed in his chair, one eyebrow raised at the teenager.

“I-I… I’m not sure I’m going to survive the two of you together,” Peter stammers uncertainly.

“Answer the question,” Tony presses, very interested in Peter’s honest opinion on the matter, not that he’d admit that.

When Peter keeps stammering and one of the healing runes fizzles out, Stephen takes pity on him. “Saved by the bell,” he murmurs, opening a portal to the restroom at Peter’s school. Peter gladly takes the offered out, almost lunging through the portal. Stephen lets Peter’s coffee blotted books fall through after him and Peter has to duck out of the way to avoid them hitting him, before Stephen lets the portal close with one last grin at Peter.

Tony sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “I would have liked to hear that,” he grumbles into the rest of his coffee.

Stephen chuckles before he replies, “And to think I’m the one he’s afraid of.”

“And you didn’t mind him saying that at all? What if he was stammering because he thinks you’re not good enough for me?” Tony asks smugly.

“Oh please,” Stephen snorts, “he was stammering because he didn’t want to admit that he thinks I’m too good for you.”

“In your dreams, Sabrina. He’s my kid, all protective of me and everything. You don’t stand a chance.”

“Sabrina, really?” Stephen questions.

Tony ignores it to instead implore, “So what are you doing today, more resting to recharge your magic or something?”

Stephen sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers before he answers, “Unfortunately no, it’s what I should be doing but something has come up.”

Tony frowns and asks, “Can’t someone else take care of that?”

“No, it requires me representing Kamar-Taj. Peter wasn’t the first one here this morning, there has been a breach in one of our other Sanctums.”

Tony shudders a little and his hand absently moves to his chest, only now realizing that he forgot to put the nano-housing unit back on when he woke up this morning. He can feel the cloak lift from his shoulders but doesn’t pay it more attention when it flies out of the room.

“What kind of breach? Demons, ghosts, more of those parasites?” he asks hurriedly, before adding, “Please let me help you at least, I’m sick of finding you half dead here.”

“I wasn’t half dead,” Stephen grumbles. “And the breach wasn’t anything that dramatic, but it is time-sensitive. And I actually could use your help in the matter.” Stephen gives Tony a quick once over, before he continues, “You should get dressed first though.”

“Yeah, yeah right, open a portal to the compound and give me ten minutes,” Tony quickly says, draining the last of his coffee and placing it back on the table.

Stephen nods and opens the portal at the same time the cloak comes back into the room, Tony’s nano unit clasped in one corner, extending it to him. Tony smiles as he takes it, offering a grateful, “Thanks,” and tries not to think about the fact that he doesn’t even mind the cloak flying around carrying his armor.

When Tony comes back through the portal with freshly styled hair, the track suit that goes with his armor on and the housing unit attached to his chest, Stephen has already cleaned their mess at the table and is waiting for him, sorcerer outfit in place and the cloak hanging from his shoulders. His face is grim and the easiness from the morning has vanished, leaving Stephen’s cool and controlled demeanor in its place. It makes Tony immediately stand up straighter, matching the other man’s seriousness.

Stephen wordlessly collapses the portal behind Tony and then opens a new one, stepping through without preamble. Tony follows him, breathing in much cooler air, noting that their surroundings still look like earth but it’s early afternoon here. “Where are we?” Tony questions, looking around at a few people who eye them nervously.

Stephen walks straight ahead with purpose and answers, “Norway.” Tony hurries to keep up with Strange’s long strides, realizing that they have come to the Asgardian settlement.

“And what are we doing here?” Tony tries to pry more information out of Stephen, glancing sideways at the man. He recognizes the tense set of his shoulders, the pressed line of his mouth and the stiff posture of the cloak’s collar matching its master. Stephen is completely in control, a perfect picture of power and cold, entire posture demanding respect, no weakness showing.

It makes Tony realize that Stephen has never looked at him like that, even when Tony had a repulsor aimed at his head or when they were fighting on the Maw’s ship.

They approach what looks like a small palace, guards in full body armor stepping forward to block the entrance. Tony can basically feel the power crackling in the air before Stephen’s orange magic appears, just a small hand movement causing both guards to be flung away from the massive doors as if they were flies batted away. Stephen doesn’t even falter in his step, another hand movement causing the doors to burst open and snap to the sides, colliding with the walls with a loud bang.

“Jesus, Stephen, what’s the rush!” Tony hisses quietly, as all the heads in the room snap up to look at them. Stephen ignores him and walks past the table that looks like a medieval war council is being held, approaching the throne at its end where Thor sits.

Thor gets up quickly, voice bouncing back from the walls of the enormous hall. “Beer wizard!”

Stephen stops in front of him, barely inclining his head as he states, “Thor Odinson.” Somehow, he manages to make it sound like an acknowledgment instead of a greeting.

Thor looks past the sorcerer to see his companion, face lighting up with relief and joy when he spots Tony. “Man of iron! What brings you to my palace?” When the hurried voices of the guards approaching sound behind them, Thor waves them off with one hand, focusing on his guests.

Stephen’s voice is dripping with ice as he gets straight to the point, “I thought we had agreed that you and your brother promptly leave earth after I aided you in finding your father.”

Tony frowns at him, the unsettling feeling that he is missing something very important washing over him. He wasn’t even aware that Stephen and Thor had met before, let alone that Stephen had met Loki and Odin. It makes his skin crawl and he want to drag Stephen away somewhere to safety. Despite his impressive skills, Tony is very aware of the fact that Stephen is only human and doesn’t even wear armor, and it’s scary to think that he’s facing gods just like this, head held high and managing to overshadow even the god of thunder with his impressive stoicism.

Thor frowns at Stephen in confusion as he replies, “And we did. But the Midgardians have been so kind to grant us this place to stay when Asgard was destroyed.”

“Yes, however I do not remember that offer extending to your brother,” Stephen is quick to reply. His answer makes Tony’s blood run cold, memories of an army raining down on New York invading his mind.

Thor’s voice drops dangerously as he steps into Stephen’s space threateningly and replies, “Loki is dead. Killed at the hands of the Mad Titan.”

The sorcerer raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him before his arms extend to draw a spinning portal in the air beside them. Everyone’s attention turns to the dark figure falling out of it, landing on the ground with a dull thud.

“I think you’ll find your brother has tricked you again,” Stephen points out.

Everybody stares at the god clad in dark robes who stands up where he fell out of the portal. Loki regards Thor with a short grin before he turns toward Stephen and starts to glare.

The room is deathly silent, all of the Asgardians gaping at Loki, Thor staring at his brother speechlessly. Tony is fighting hard to not let the suit form around him instantly. Stephen levels a cold stare on Loki when he starts to stalk toward him.

“You!” Loki growls, two daggers appearing in his hands. “I have been falling for hours! This time I will-” He’s interrupted by Stephen doing a quick roll of his hand which causes a glowing rune to settle in front of Loki’s mouth which swallows all of the man’s sounds.

Loki is well on his way to where Stephen stands when Thor steps into his path, firmly gripping his shoulders, turning him to face the blond god. “Brother!” Thor exclaims, clasping one hand at the back of Loki’s neck, staring at him with relief and glee in his eyes.

Stephen rolls his eyes impatiently and clears his throat. When both gods have turned back towards him, he accuses, “He was trying to steal artifacts from one of our Sanctums.”

Tony alternates between looking at Stephen and Loki, ready to spring into battle at a moment’s notice. He flinches when Loki casts an illusion without moving a muscle, which appears directly next to Stephen, daggers already on the move. Stephen was already expecting the attack though, another rune stopping the impact of Loki’s dagger at his back. Loki flinches in pain when the illusion flickers out of existence and glares harder at Stephen.

Loki doesn’t wait long to cast another illusion, one that isn’t gagged by Strange’s rune. “I wanted to bring Hofund home. It doesn’t belong with you dull creatures,” he spits at Stephen, making Thor step into Stephen’s space again, towering over the man.

“You have obtained Heimdall’s sword?” he asks, voice akin to a growl.

Stephen doesn’t flinch away from Thor’s threatening posture, staring the man straight in the eye. “Yes, and it will stay where it is.”

Thor’s hand extends and within a few moments, Stormbreaker has arrived and snaps into his hand. When he raises it threateningly just above Stephen’s head, Tony’s suit takes only seconds to form and then he’s up right next to the sorcerer, his own weapons trained at Thor.

Thor regards him with a frown, then quickly lowers his weapon again, and Tony follows suit. The god of thunder clasps a strong hand on the suit’s shoulder before he speaks more calmly than before, “Friend, you must see reason. Hofund belongs to Asgard.”

Before Tony can say anything to that, Stephen throws in, “Asgard doesn’t exist anymore. Heimdall is dead and without him to protect it, it’s safer with us.”

When Tony sees Thor’s muscles tense again, he quickly steps forward and places his own hand on Thor’s forearm to stop him. “Okay, guys, stop. What’s so special about this sword?” Tony asks, looking between Stephen and the god next to him.

Stephen finally stops glaring at Thor to watch the mechanic instead as he answers, “Hofund is also known as the Bifrost sword. Heimdall was its guardian and used it to open an Einstein-Rosen Bridge to allow travel between universes. The destruction of the Bifrost Bridge in Asgard has made this more difficult but with the addition of dark magic, Hofund could still be used to open wormholes.”

Tony’s mind is spinning, and he feels dizzy with another possible way for aliens and other species to travel to earth. “Alright, we agree that this sword should be protected then, right?” Tony asks, mainly directing his attention at Thor. When the god nods at him, he suggests, “So how about we let Strange keep it for now, and as soon as you’ve really settled your people here permanently, we go back to this?”

Loki has finally managed to break the spell that Strange had put on him and the rune falls away from his mouth. He steps forward immediately and snaps, “It will definitely not stay with you mortals!”

Thor raises a hand to quiet Loki before he turns to Tony with a contemplative look. “Man of iron, do you trust the wizard to keep the sword safe while I tend to the needs of my people?”

Tony doesn’t hesitate for the slightest moment. “Yes, I give you my word there is no safer place on earth for it.” Only after uttering the words does he realize the heavy meaning of what he said and the absence of any doubt about the truth of that statement. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Strange look at him, surprise subtly showing in his expression.

“Alright, wizard,” Thor announces, turning back around to face Strange, “I will leave Hofund in your care for now. I will collect it when my people are well enough to protect it ourselves again.”

Despite Stephen’s unwillingness to let this expectation prevail, he can feel his glamour spell weakening and his legs are getting weaker by the minute with the added drain of magic he doesn’t have to spare. He fears that Loki will notice his state if they spend much more time here, so he postpones this discussion to a later time and agrees to Thor’s suggestion with a terse nod.

Tony can see that Stephen isn’t happy with this conclusion but is relieved that he doesn’t object, not fond of the way that Loki is still glaring at him and aware that Thor isn’t as convinced of Stephen’s capabilities as he is.

“About your brother-” Stephen begins and Thor quickly nods, acknowledging, “I am aware he is a wanted war criminal on Midgard. I will speak to the authorities here and arrange for his departure should I not acquire a permission for him to stay here with us.”

Stephen throws both gods another doubtful look before he nods once, as satisfied as he is going to get with their visit here. He feels wetness slide down to his upper lip and notices that Loki is throwing him a questioning look, so he just throws a curt, “You know where to find me,” into the room, and then lets a portal slide first over Tony and then himself, bringing them back to the entrance hall of the Sanctum.

Tony stumbles slightly with the sudden change of scenery, growling, “Would you stop doing that without warning?” When he doesn’t immediately get an answer, he turns around to see Stephen’s eyes glazed over and the man stumbling forward weakly.

Stephen doesn’t pay any attention to Tony as the glamour spell dissolves and he falls, hands grabbing for the railing of the stairs to stop from crashing to the ground, but he reaches for empty air, missing by a few inches and falls nonetheless, tumbling to the floor, caught just short it by the cloak springing into action.

“Stephen?” Tony asks worriedly, hurrying to his side and crouching down next to him when the cloak lowers the taller man to sit on the stairs.

“I’m good,” Stephen mumbles, wiping the blood from his upper lip that has started to trail down from his nose, the accompanying headache having knocked him momentarily off his feet.

“Like hell you are,” Tony disagrees, eyes zooming in on the red blotch on Stephen’s hand. “What’s wrong?” he asks, hovering next to Stephen with nervous energy.

Stephen shakes his head insistently, voice trembly and quiet as he replies, “It’s alright. I’m still a little short on energy is all.”

“That’s droopy eyes and yawning, this is something else,” Tony protests, pointing at Stephen’s face, indicating the deathly pale skin, dark circles under his eyes and blood dripping from his nose faster than Stephen can wipe at it.

Stephen shakes his head again, trying to dislodge the fog that has settled over his brain. “It’s just the side effects of the glamour spell, don’t worry about it.” It actually really isn’t but Stephen doesn’t need Tony to worry about the consequences that his parasite has had on his body, he’s confident that he’ll be back to his full strength in a few days.

“What glamour spell?” Tony inquires, frowning at the bleeding sorcerer in front of him, noticing the shake in his hands that is more prominent than before, and how even his arms tremble slightly when he tries to push himself back up.

“I don’t really inspire confidence in my ability to keep Hofund safe looking like this, do I?” Stephen points out, finally raising his head towards Tony. Without the spell, his hair isn’t actually neatly in place, his beard looks unkempt and the sickly pallor of his skin makes him look almost like an actual ghost.

“Alright, no more frightening any alien children for you today, come on,” Tony says, helping Stephen get back up on his feet. The sorcerer sways a little, and Tony stumbles slightly at the added weight when Stephen leans onto him. He quickly drapes one of Stephen’s arms over his shoulder when he realizes just how burned out the other man is and more or less drags him up the stairs and towards Stephen’s room, the cloak helping him by taking some of the weight.

When they arrive at the living quarters of the Sanctum, Tony steers them into the bathroom, carefully letting Stephen slide onto the lid of the toilet before he grabs a cloth and wets it with some warm water. The cloak holds the sorcerer upright while Tony gently wipes the trail of blood from his face, frowning at the little drop of blood that has slipped out of the corner of the man’s eye.

As much as Stephen’s presence has helped him come to terms with his fear of magic, he now develops a new found and very strong hate for it, seeing how it impacts the man he likes so much. Stephen’s eyes are closed all the while, letting Tony take care of him without protest for the moment, which goes a far way in showing just how bad he’s feeling.

“Okay, when was the last time you ate?” Tony asks when he’s done cleaning Stephen’s face, determined to nurse him back to health.

Stephen opens his mouth to answer, then frowns and opens his eyes, not remembering the last time he did. Tony sighs when Stephen’s brilliant blue eyes settle on him and says, “That’s a very clear it’s been to long. Do you have anything here?”

Stephen shakes his head no and starts, “I can portal us to the-,“ when Tony interrupts him with a snort and a muttered, “No magic for you, Mister.” Tony directs his next sentence at the cloak, fixing it with stern eyes, “Keep him alive while I go get something, okay?” It brings one corner up in a salute and Tony grins at it before he turns back to Stephen, asking, “Chinese sound good?”

Stephen nods a little, still staring off into the distance a little disoriented and Tony hands him over into the cloak’s care, leaving the Sanctum to get food and using his suit to take a quick detour to the Compound, picking up Stephen’s gloves on the way.

When Tony comes back, he finds that Stephen hasn’t actually moved out of the room but is instead standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fighting with the razor in his violently shaking hand. The mechanic slows and arrives just in time to see the cloak reaching out its corner to help, softly taking the item out of the cursing doctor’s hand to take over.

Tony is kind of endeared by the affectionate action and tempted to watch the display of trust when the cloak moves to shave right around Stephen’s mouth, causing the man to flinch back and growl at the relic, “Not all of it!” The cloak just gives a shrug with its collar before moving in again at the same angle, so Tony quickly steps forward and clears his throat, trying to suppress his chuckle.

Stephen turns and manages to pluck the razor back out of the cloak’s grasp quite suavely during that movement. Tony rolls his eyes and stalks forward, placing one hand on Stephen’s chest to push him back until he sinks down onto his previous seat, causing an adorably confused frown to settle on the man’s face, and then quickly picks the razor out of his hand and in turn pushes the smaller one of his food bags into it.

Stephen glares at Tony, grumbling at him, “I wasn’t done with that.”

“Well, you are now,” Tony counters, setting the other bags on the shelf next to the sink and then stepping up to Stephen. “Come on, get eating your spring rolls while I take care of this,” he continues, reaching for Stephen’s chin.

“Definitely not,” Stephen snaps, yanking his head out of Tony’s reach. “I can take care of myself.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say we did this before,” Tony says, looking at Stephen expectantly. When he doesn’t respond, Tony takes it as confirmation and proceeds with, “See, stop being a baby about this.”

“We were much closer then,” Stephen grumbles, batting Tony’s grabby hand away with his forearm.

“Oh, we can be as close as you like, sweet-cheeks,” Tony drawls as he nudges Stephen’s legs apart with one of his and steps between them, gripping Stephen’s chin firmly in one hand and drawing him closer.

Stephen glares at the mechanic but stops trying to get away from him. “If you ruin this, I will never let you set foot in the Sanctum again,” he mutters under his breath before he goes pliant under the mechanic’s touch, making him grin widely.

Tony is gentle, but also quick and efficient, despite wanting to linger on every touch to Stephen’s skin. Whenever he rinses out the razor, he prompts Stephen to eat another spring roll, slowly managing to make him eat most of the bag.

When he’s done, Tony steps back to examine his work. “Well, I’ve really outdone myself,” Tony grins while leering at the sorcerer, who raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“Stop drooling,” Stephen groans, getting up and taking the food bags, leaving the room with Tony close behind. They make their way to the kitchen, where Tony sits while Stephen gets some plates to put their takeout on before lowering himself into the chair across from Tony.

“By the way, you forgot these at the Compound,” Tony says when he notices that Stephen’s hands are expectedly still shaking quite a lot due to the added strain of physical exhaustion, placing the gloves that he picked up before going back to the Sanctum on the table between them.

Stephen stares at them for a moment, before he looks up and glares at Tony. “You’ve had these with you the whole time?”

Tony shrugs nonchalantly, answering, “Picked them up with the food.”

“Then why the hell did you insist on shaving me?” Stephen asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Tony grins slightly, leaning back in his seat, saying, “Well, I must’ve forgotten I had them with me.”

“No, you didn’t,” Stephen objects.

“No, I didn’t, I just couldn’t help myself. You know, you’re quite cute when you’re submissive like that. It suits you,” Tony says, laughing at the yet more passionate glare the sorcerer shoots him in return.

“God, I hate you sometimes,” Stephen mutters, before picking up the gloves and pulling them on, relaxing slightly when they tighten around his hands and start massaging, some of his anger at Tony’s actions easing away with it.

Tony smiles at the blissed-out expression on the man’s face and starts emptying the takeout boxes onto their plates, pushing Stephen’s over to him. He watches Stephen carefully, examining the way he eats and when he notices that Stephen doesn’t struggle with the chopsticks despite his hands, he relaxes back into his own chair with a satisfied smirk.

Stephen of course notices Tony’s gaze on his limbs, but when he actually manages to use chopsticks for the first time since his accident without the help of magic to stop his hands from shaking, he couldn’t really care less. When Tony’s eyes travel up from his hands to his face, Stephen allows himself to smile warmly at the other like he used to, hoping that it conveys the gratefulness that he doesn’t know how to properly express.

With the way Stephen looks at him, fond smile curling his lips upwards, eyes crinkling at the corner, blue eyes leveled right on his, Tony can’t help but blush furiously, starting to fiddle with his own chopsticks, dropping one of them and cursing quietly under his breath.

Stephen watches the effect he has on Tony with amusement, and can’t help but mutter, “See, drooling,” under his breath and then chuckle at the way the blush spreads even further under Tony’s tan skin, making the tips of his ears burn. Stephen’s eyes drift to the top of Tony’s shirt, seeing the way the skin there turns red as well, remembering the way the flush would spread over most of Tony’s chest.

When the embarrassment makes Tony fall silent, Stephen clears his throat slightly and mutters, “Thank you. I wouldn’t be able to do this without the gloves.”

Tony gratefully accepts the out Stephen offers, answering, “No problem, glad to help. Like I mentioned before, if you want to adjust the pattern or the fit, just let me know, it takes no time at all.”

“Well, you’ve actually hit the mark quite well the first time around,” Stephen clarifies, noticing how Tony’s lips curly into an easy smile at that comment, feeling euphoric for being able to make that expression appear on the mechanic’s face again. When Stephen had chosen this future, he hadn’t expected to see it again, let alone be the one to put it on Tony’s face.

After a while of eating in comfortable silence, Tony asks, “What does the rest of your day look like now? I swear, if you try to work in any other way, I _will_ tie you up and drag you to your bed myself.”

Stephen raises an eyebrow at Tony, replying with a smooth, “kinky,” that does unspoken things to Tony’s imagination. Stephen feels a firm tug on his lips when he sees Tony’s pupils blow a little wider but quickly plows on, wary of where his own thoughts will move if he dwells on it too long. “I’m not working any more today, but I do need to see Wong.”

“For what?” Tony asks immediately, the thought of leaving Stephen at the moment an uncomfortable weight deep in his stomach.

Stephen clears his throat slightly, before he responds, “A private matter.”

Tony’s eyebrows shoot up as he regards the other man, thoughts racing in his head. “Is this about something we saw when you had that parasite in you?” Tony blurts, feeling bad when Stephen flinches slightly at his words.

“Yes,” Stephen mutters, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He doesn’t want to lie to Tony about this, but he’s also worried that Tony might figure out what is going on if he’s presented with too many facts.

Tony frowns slightly, before he asks, “Wong is your friend, right?”

Stephen is taken aback by Tony’s question but quickly responds, “Yes.”

“Then why didn’t he know what happened with Dormammu?” Tony questions.

Despite his unwillingness to talk about it, Stephen is glad that Tony has apparently drawn the conclusion that this is what he needs to see Wong about. “After it happened…” Stephen trails off for a while before he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes shortly, continuing, “I wasn’t the most sociable person. I spent so long in that time loop, dying over and over that when I returned, I flinched away from every physical contact that wasn’t the cloak’s. I instinctively associated any and all sorts of closeness with pain. Wong realized that and gave me the space I needed at the time. He respected my choice not to talk about what happened when I asked him not to mention it again.”

Tony listens closely, heart swelling with pain and tears stinging the back of his eyes. He’s seen the way Stephen acts around other people, cold and distant and even if it doesn’t register immediately, anyone who pays close attention to him can see that he always keeps a fair amount of distance between himself and anybody else. Tony curses himself inwardly when he remembers touching Stephen for comfort after he woke up from his nightmare. He should have been more careful, should have paid closer attention to the details.

Tony still remembers vividly what it was like to come back from 3 months spent being tortured and working every other moment in that cave in Afghanistan. When he came back, everything had felt so foreign, every contact so trivial and unimportant, closeness to anyone just meant putting them in danger, there had been nothing that was as important as the next mission. Unlike Stephen though, everybody knew or at least had a vague idea of what he’d gone through. The glowing arc reactor in his chest had been a dead give-away for the things that had happened to him at the hands of those men, and everyone close to him knew not to press him on details. He wonders what it would’ve been like if no one had even noticed that he was gone because it was too short an amount of time for them to realize what had happened, if there were no scars to signal to others that he’d been through hell, if no one had been any wiser for it.

After Afghanistan most people had walked on eggshells around him, careful not to set off anything unpleasant, aware of the changes. For Stephen, probably nothing had changed. He’d been through a hell worse than what anybody could have imagined, away from the real word longer than anybody could have grasped, looking no different than when he’d left.

Tony doesn’t like the fact that Wong, who seems to be Stephen’s closest (or only) friend, hadn’t known what happened to the man, but he’s also glad that Wong hadn’t pressed Stephen, had accepted the boundaries he set and not made Stephen alienate himself even further from the rest of the world, even if that world was only a select few other sorcerers.

Tony swallows uncomfortably when he focuses back on Stephen, being watched closely by the other man. “You know what it’s like, don’t you?” Stephen asks quietly, eyes roaming over Tony’s face and the mechanic feels naked under his gaze, exposed like he’s an open book.

“I don’t think I do,” Tony mutters. Stephen huffs slightly, before he changes his position, facing Tony more directly.

“We talked about New York sometimes,” Stephen says, and Tony’s breath hitches slightly. “You were the only one who saw the threat that was coming, the only one who _believed_ in it. You were as alone with that knowledge as I was with the knowledge of what happened with Dormammu.”

Tony stares at Stephen, brow furrowed. Maybe he’s right and they’re much more similar in some things than Tony had realized. He doesn’t really know what happened in the timeline where they’d been on the run together for nine years, but he’s glad that that version of himself had someone by his side who would have understood all of his issues so intimately. He likes to think it would be inevitable to become friends with Stephen while spending that much time with him and right now, he can’t imagine anyone else he would have rather had with him on a mission like that.

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony replies, both men staying silent for a while. “Well, if you ever do want to talk about it, don’t hesitate to come to me,” Tony murmurs, smiling at Stephen.

Stephen returns his smile and adds, “The same goes for you Tony. Feel free to get things off your chest.”

Tony’s smile widens slightly, and he nods to convey his intention to do so.

They eat the rest of their food with easy small talk that makes both men chuckle from time to time, atmosphere lighter than before. Tony feels like this is the start of something deeper, an actual friendship maybe, maybe even something more. Whatever it is, it makes his heart do somersaults in his chest and makes him grin like an idiot when he starts to think about it.

When they’ve finished their food, Stephen collects the plates and places them in the sink. “I should go see Wong now,” he says, and Tony feels his heart sink slightly, unwilling to leave.

“I don’t think you should be portaling around just yet,” Tony tries and Stephen chuckles at his quite obvious attempt to make him stay.

“We have a door that leads directly to Kamar-Taj, no magic required,” he informs the mechanic.

“Ah,” Tony lets out, shuffling his feet around a bit.

Stephen takes a deep breath before he murmurs, “You can come with me, Kathmandu is quite beautiful this time of the year.”

Tony’s head snaps up and he regards Stephen’s open expression, smiling when he nods his okay and then follows Stephen to the door that leads them to Kamar-Taj. It’s enormous, the same rune of the attic window embedded in it, spanning over both halves of the door. When they step through, they arrive in a hall and Tony looks around in wonder at the two matching doors leading away from it and the massive globe hovering in the air over the pedestal where the Eye of Agamotto sits.

They make their way out to the courtyard where both men pause to watch the apprentices train, some managing to almost open full portals while others only cause a few sparks to appear in the air. Stephen leans over to Tony to whisper in his ear, “If you want, you can stay here while I talk to Wong.”

Tony nods, ignoring the shiver that runs down his back at the closeness. God, he really is touch-starved. He settles down on the wall surrounding the courtyard, watching Stephen’s back as he retreats into the temple, before he focuses back on the students, muttering a quick command for Friday to scan their training.

Unsurprisingly, Stephen finds Wong in the library, brooding over some books with in-ear headphones, Beyoncé blasting so loudly from them that Stephen can hear it while approaching. Stephen stops in front of Wong’s desk, clearing his throat loudly to alert the other man to his presence.

Wong looks up at him, levels him with a stern expression as he pulls the earbuds out and leads the way into another area of the library, where both men sit on the pillows laid down on the ground and Wong conjures tea for both of them. His eyes only linger for a short moment on his glove-covered hands before they settle on Stephen’s.

“That is what I wanted to talk to you about,” Wong starts, diving right in and Stephen nods, shooting back a quick, “I am aware.”

There is a short pause before Wong hisses at him, “Of all the things you have done yet, this is by far the stupidest, Stephen. How could you form a bond with someone, Stark no less!”

Stephen rolls his eyes before he retorts, “You have no idea of the things I’ve already done. And it’s not like I tied my soul to his on purpose, Wong, I’m not that idiotic.”

“That is debatable,” Wong retorts, making Stephen roll his eyes. “Have you got any idea about the consequences this might have for the both of you?!”

Stephen groans in exasperation before he says, “Yes, obviously. I died from the consequences.”

Wong shakes his head, continuing, “I’m not talking about that particular future. I’m talking about the consequences for this reality. The Time stone might reverse the physical effects of the experienced timelines, but a soul bond is a spiritual matter!”

Stephen swallows, painfully feeling the dry lump that has formed in his throat. “We’re not connected anymore, I would have felt it,” he remarks, putting as much confidence into his voice as he can muster.

“Stephen,” Wong emphasizes, “he always shows up when you are hurt or in danger. What if that is the pull of a remaining bond?”

“Well, that wouldn’t be the worst effect,” Stephen murmurs, earning himself another glare.

“You need to stop seeing Stark. If this bond reforms, there is no telling what could happen. Your souls might not be compatible in this reality,” Wong warns.

Stephen shakes his head stubbornly, immediately discarding the possibility. “Wong, I have felt that connection for four years, I am telling you, the bond is gone. There’s not a trace of it left.”

“Soul bonds are unpredictable; his death took you with him once. Don’t let your arrogance cause that to happen again,” Wong presses.

Stephen’s stomach flips and he feels nauseous, unable to keep the shudder inside that ripples through him when he remembers the feeling of Tony dying, like a leaden weight pulling his soul out of his body, every fiber of his being resisting. Stephen has experienced more deaths than he can count, but the feeling of his bonded mate dying is by far the most painful thing he has ever felt. It had been a blur of four painful, suffering months where he was unable to move his own body, unable to grip one thought until even Thanos had had mercy on him and finally killed him.

He shakes his head vehemently, furiously wiping at the traitorous tear that slips from his eye. “It was an accident, Wong. I messed up extracting Maximoff’s magic from his head and bonded us together, but the Time stone reversed it. None of that bond is left and I have learned from my mistake.”

Wong sighs, watching Stephen closely. “It’s dangerous, Stephen. At least you should let him know.”

“Oh yeah, great idea, Wong,” Stephen scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Hey, Tony, I just wanted to tell you, I fused both our souls and minds together in an alternate timeline, so I know you inside and out,” Stephen mocks.

“You should tell him,” Wong growls lowly.

“He doesn’t need to know,” Stephen replies, getting up and quickly leaving the room without another word. He can hear Wong sigh dramatically behind him and feels a childish rush of satisfaction when he lets the door of the room crash loudly into its lock.

With the sound of it, his carefully kept composure starts to crack as well, and Stephen breathes harshly as he spreads both hands out against the wooden paneling of the wall to keep from sliding to the ground. His eyes sting and his shoulders shake, and he can’t fucking _breathe_.

All the memories he had locked in a small corner of his mind come flooding back and he _wants_ , he _needs_. He remembers the shocked expression and the tears when Tony had woken up for the first time after dreaming one of Stephen’s nightmares instead of his own, he remembers the understanding in Tony’s eyes that had settled in soon after, he remembers Tony’s voice ghosting around inside his mind when he woke up, telling him ‘I’m here’. For the first time since his sister died, he truly hadn’t been alone.

After Tony had died and slowly, painfully ripped Stephen’s soul out of his body with him, thousands of futures that came after had felt so numb, so _empty_ , that Stephen had lost faith in ever being whole again.

Seeing Tony and being watched by those unknowing brown eyes had hurt so bad when he came back from the soul stone, had made him lash out at every opportunity to get Tony to stay the hell away from him. But then Tony had started acting so much like _his_ Tony, had started caring and Stephen couldn’t help but fall back into the warmth of it, had managed to build something new, something that was slowly sparking into more than a friendship with Tony in this reality.

He feels his heart squeeze painfully, his throat constricting at the prospect of having to give up another Tony, of having the ground ripped out from under his feet again.

But realistically, he knows that Wong is right, if there is a residual bond from that timeline, it is risky to get closer to Tony, to spend so much time with him. Stephen’s need to have this, to close Tony back into his arms and heart could have disastrous effects on both of them.

Stephen’s arms tremble, one still braced against the wall to hold himself, the other’s palm pressed against one of his eyes to quell the tears that have started to flow down his cheeks in rivulets, hitting the floor in a steady dripping pattern, the sound only interrupted by his strangled sobs.

And that’s exactly how Tony finds him moments later, alarmed by the loud sound of the door slamming shut. “Stephen?” he inquires, shocked at the mess shaking apart a few feet away from him. When Stephen’s head shoots up at the mention of his name, Tony can see the tears streaming down his face, collecting and dripping off of both sides of his chin, his lower lip quivering, breath shuddering with every pained attempt to suck in a little bit of air, eyes red and puffy and so full of pain.

“Shit, Stephen,” Tony breathes and crosses the space between them in three long strides, one hand immediately circling around his waist and the other sliding into Stephen’s hair, pulling him in close. Stephen’s hands come around to tangle in the back of Tony’s jacket, holding on for dear life, sobbing into the smaller man’s shoulder, tears quickly soaking the thin fabric there.

“I can’t-,” Stephen chokes out, burying his head further into Tony’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Tony whispers, hand stroking through Stephen’s messed up hair.

Stephen shakes his head slightly, drawing in another ragged breath before he tries again, “I can’t, Tony, I-” Another sob shakes him, squeezing the words back into his burning throat and Tony pulls him even closer.

“It’s okay, don’t,” Tony soothes, fingers sliding against Stephen’s scalp. “Whatever it is, just don’t. It’s alright.” Tony keeps Stephen together, murmurs more quiet, soothing words into his ear, strokes his hair with one hand and holds him close with the other. They stand there in the hallway of the place where Stephen trained, and Stephen wants to tell himself that this is enough, that if he can have this one moment with the mechanic, everything has been worth it, but it isn’t the truth.

The world has kept taking and taking and _taking_ from him and Stephen needs this, needs Tony to keep him going, needs him to have something to come home to, needs him to hold together Stephen’s broken and battered heart.

Another loud sob escapes Stephen’s throat when Tony murmurs ‘I’m here’, and it sounds so much like his Tony, and he knows that he can’t give this up. He can face a million deaths head on and go through any amount of physical pain the universe throws at him, but he can’t lose this again, can’t give up on Tony. In that moment Stephen knows that, no matter the consequences, he’s going to hold on and keep Tony as close as he can. He might get terribly burned on this path, but he simply can’t deal with the alternative.

Stephen slumps into Tony’s arms when his breathing goes back to a normal rhythm and Tony doesn’t pull back, doesn’t stop the soothing motions of his hands roaming over Stephen.

Tony realizes that he’s in _deep_ , and it should terrify him but right now, with Stephen being a solid weight in his arms, soaking up Tony’s comfort, Tony feels wanted and it makes his heart flutter excitedly.

When they head back to New York, neither of them says a word, knowing that it isn’t needed. They walk closer than before and when Tony leaves that evening, he draws Stephen into another tight, lingering hug, aware that he’ll be spending a lot of time with the other man in the future, heart bouncing around in his chest in anticipation. When he falls asleep that night, it’s with a smile on his face, no nightmares making any appearance in his relaxed slumber. Stephen is equally relaxed when he falls back asleep thinking of Tony and doesn’t notice that the tears of joy in his eyes are a watery pink.

***

Tony looks up as a portal fizzles open in the middle of his lab. Although he and Stephen have been spending more time together in the last weeks and Stephen has become a regular guest in the compound as much as Tony has in the Sanctum, he hasn’t ever opened a portal directly into his lab before.

Stephen’s head pokes through the glowing ring, collar of the cloak stiffly upright, his expression grim as he commands, “There’s a mission, we need your help.” With those words he disappears back into the portal, leaving it open for Tony to follow him. Tony is quick to put his tools back onto his desk and grab his suit, attaching the unit it’s housed in to his chest before he does as he’s told, not hesitating one moment before he hops through the portal.

He lands in what looks like a weapon chamber filled with mystical artifacts, Stephen overseeing the hasty actions of the other sorcerers grimly. From his explanations, Tony recognizes the differently colored tunics as those belonging to the Masters of their mystical order, each grabbing something and then collecting in the courtyard near the exit of the chamber.

“What’s going on?” Tony asks, noticing the urgency in everybody’s movements, the set determination in their faces.

Stephen motions for Tony to follow him as he starts to explain, “Thanos snapped his fingers in Wakanda to wipe out half of life in the universe. The place has been unstable with dimensional energy for a while since then, but now it has ripped. The rift opens a sort of portal to other dimensions but it’s flickering, changing its direction.”

“Great,” Tony grumbles. “What are you doing about this?”

“We’re on our way there, we have to close it and take care of any creatures that slip into this dimension while it’s open.”

Tony nods, squaring his shoulders. He has drilled into Stephen for weeks now to let him help if something big comes up, to reach out for help. A small selfish part of him now wishes he hadn’t. He doesn’t want to go to Wakanda. He doesn’t want to run into the old Avengers.

Apparently, Stephen is able to read his thoughts perfectly again, stepping close to Tony and lowering his voice so only the two of them can hear what he says. “If I knew another way, I wouldn’t drag you into this. I know you don’t want to see them, but as technologically advanced as Wakanda is, they are completely unequipped to handle this. But they don’t like outsiders helping and they don’t know us.”

Stephen’s implication hangs in the air a little as Tony frowns at him. “You want me to convince them that they need your help?”

“I _need_ you to convince them that this isn’t a problem they can solve by throwing weapons at it. Tony, these dimensions aren’t necessarily inhabited by dangerous creatures. I don’t want to shed any blood if that isn’t required.”

At Stephen’s insistent stare, Tony nods and murmurs, “Let’s go then.”

The sorcerer turns back to the four Masters, voice raising to get their attention. “Keep it contained. Make sure no creatures escape but don’t attack them if you don’t have to. Don’t try to close the portal until we have arrived.” When the others nod in understanding he opens a portal for them and they quickly disappear into it. For himself and Tony he makes another one, leading them onto the landing platform in front of the palace in Wakanda.

Within moments they’re surrounded by Dora Milaje, spears threateningly turned towards them. Tony raises his hands and tells them that they need to speak with King T’Challa and after one of them calls someone inside the palace to confirm using her Kimoyo beads, they are led inside by two of the women.

Inside the palace, they’re led into a conference room, where T’Challa waits for them and gestures for them to sit. Tony lets himself sink into a chair next to Stephen, drawing just a little closer to the other man when another door to the room opens and Steve Rogers steps in, followed by Wanda and Clint.

They all sit at the table and Tony wants nothing more than to get away from Maximoff again, but Strange’s hand settling on his thigh reassuringly makes him calm down a little again.

“Mr. Stark,” T’Challa greets him, before throwing a questioning glance to the other man.

“Stephen Strange,” he introduces himself, before swiftly getting to the point. “A dimensional rift has opened where Thanos used the gauntlet, it’s a gateway to other dimensions and it needs to be closed. But the creatures that are coming through aren’t hostile, at least most of them aren’t. You need to call back your soldiers.”

Steve seems to be taken aback by that statement, while Wanda just glares at Tony with a passion, apparently having noticed that her spell is gone from his mind. It makes the mechanic lean just a little closer into Strange, seeking his protection from her magic.

“With all due respect, Mr. Strange, the creatures have attacked my people,” T’Challa replies.

“And now you’re trying to have them run over by rhinos!” Stephen snaps at the Wakandan king.

“Hey!” Tony interrupts, raising one placating hand in the direction of either man. “Stephen can close it and deal with the remaining creatures that slip through. Just pull your men back and let the sorcerers deal with this, it’ll be done within…”

Tony trails off and raises an expectant eyebrow at Stephen for an estimate. “Closing it will take ten minutes, tops, if you would just stop attacking the sorcerers that have come to help.”

There is a short pause where T’Challa seems to consider it before he uses the beads on his arm to call back the soldiers attacking everything coming out of the portal and the sorcerers that are trying to keep them from being killed.

“Alright, Mr. Stark, Mr. Strange, close it. Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barton and Ms. Maximoff will accompany you and make sure no creatures escape,” the king states in a voice that leaves no room for argument, obviously not trusting anyone else to deal with the problem.

The others get up and Steve commands them to follow him, leading the way out of the palace. Tony can see the set line of Stephen’s mouth, the subtle twitch in his jaw that is barely noticeable and knows by now exactly what that means. “Stephen,” he prompts quietly, slowing his steps to fall back behind the others.

Stephen turns to him with a frown but slows down to match Tony’s speed. “What’s wrong?” Tony asks, studying his face inquisitively.

“Nothing,” Stephen answers dismissively, avoiding Tony’s eyes. Well, to Tony an admission that something massive is wrong couldn’t be any clearer.

“I know that look, tell me. You remembered something.”

Stephen’s eyes shoot up to the mechanic’s for a short moment before focusing back on the retreating backs of the others. He seems uncertain, like he’s not sure Tony should know what the reason for his unease is, and he really can’t have that.

“Hey,” Tony murmurs, even quieter than before. He steps into Stephen’s space, placing one hand on his shoulder. When he looks up into his eyes, he can see pain and fear and unease and wishes he could erase all of those feelings. He’s tempted to lean up and kiss Stephen, but besides the fact that he still doesn’t know if that gesture would be welcomed, he doesn’t want their first kiss to be like this. To be a means to provide comfort.

“You were the only one in that room who’s never killed me,” Stephen murmurs eventually, slightly leaning into the comfort that Tony’s presence provides, but still standing upright, making sure it doesn’t look like anything more than a concerned debate to the outside.

“Wha- Shit, really?” Tony hisses, staring up at those pale blue eyes in shock.

“Yeah.” Stephen’s voice is small and resigned, his eyes glazed over with painful memories of futures that never were.

“Fuck. Are you okay?” Right after saying that, Tony wants to smack himself. Obviously, he isn’t, but what he means to ask is if Stephen can do this. Tony has had his own bad history with Rogers, but it’s nothing like this. Tony can’t even imagine what it’s like for Stephen, knowing how much he himself is struggling with just being in the same room as Steve.

Stephen seems to understand what Tony is saying just fine, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, before he replies, “yes. We need to go.”

He strides after the others with purpose, as if his resolve might crumble if he waits any longer, but Tony can’t help but reach out and grab Stephen’s arm, pulling him back slightly. He steps closer again, tilting his head up so nobody else can hear and whispers, “listen, I've got your back okay? I'll keep an eye on you the whole time.” He punctuates his words with a squeeze to Stephen’s arm.

“Thank you.” Stephen looks Tony in the eyes, blue blazing in his depths with sincerity, eyes crinkling at the corners with a genuine smile curling his lips, walls lowered for Tony to see the man behind. It means more to Tony than any words ever could and his heart leaps into his throat at the realization that Stephen isn’t hiding but putting himself out there for Tony to see.

After a short moment, everything slips back behind the carefully crafted façade and Stephen turns to finally follow Rogers, gently tugging a baffled Tony with him by the hand still curled around his arm.

They take one of the hovercrafts to the place where the rift has occurred. It looks like a blackened whole in the middle of the Wakandan scenery, images of other environments flickering in and out inside it in irregular intervals. The Masters of Kamar-Taj that had departed before them are spread out around the site, holding up what looks like a dome of orange energy that keeps the creatures inside contained.

A few feet away from that dome, soldiers are standing in line, waiting to be called to action. They’re flanked by a bunch of armored rhinos and two aircrafts with weapons trained on the rift are hovering in the air above them. The scorch marks around the dome and several dead bodies of different alien species scattered around speak clearly of what happened before the other sorcerers arrived.

Stephen’s eyes are cold and calculating when he takes in the needless slaughter, grim determination set in his features and Tony feels even more admiration for the way Stephen treats life, for his efforts to prevent any needless casualties, because Tony gets it. It’s what he’s been trying to do for the last decade, saving as many lives as possible and he gets Stephen’s rage in face of the evitability of the dead creatures splattered around them like they’re worthless.

When they depart the hovercraft, Stephen gathers Rogers, Barton, Maximoff and Tony around himself, casting a quick spell to carry his voice so the Wakandans and the other sorcerers hear him as well.

“When the shield dissolves, I will close the rift. The other sorcerers will cast each creature back to its dimension. The rest of you,” Stephen says, fixing the old Avengers with an unrelenting glare, “will keep the creatures from escaping. Don’t hurt them, none of these are violent, they’re just frightened.”

Tony gives a curt nod before looking over at the others. Maximoff and Barton are both looking at Rogers, waiting for a confirmation from _their_ team leader that they should do as Stephen told them. Tony wants to snort and smack his palm against his forehead. This feels like a kindergarten. Steve Rogers is probably the least qualified person to deal with dimensional energies and rifts and still they turn to him instead of someone equipped to handle this.

Steve looks like he bit into a lemon, obviously disgruntled with being given commands from someone else. He might’ve gotten used to obeying the orders of the king who has offered his team refugee, but he obviously still hasn’t shed his view of being the one who knows best and tells everybody else what to do.

Tony can feel the annoyance radiating in waves off of Stephen at the continued indecisiveness of Captain America.

“Rogers,” he snaps, deep voice rumbling in the air around them loud enough to make Steve flinch.

“Okay,” he agrees, nodding once at both of his old teammates. Stephen rolls his eyes before he lets the cloak carry him up into the air, signaling the other sorcerers to lower the dome.

The moment they do, Stephen’s arms start waving complicated patterns into the air, shaking fingers twisting in intricate ways that Tony knows will make his fingers ache for a few days.

The other sorcerers start casting portals like the ones Tony has grown familiar with, before letting them swipe over the creatures they’re meant for.

Tony’s suit bleeds into position around him, and he shoots up into the air, repulsors set to a lower setting than usual, helping round the creatures up into an acceptable space by shooting his repulsors into the ground close to them to make them go the opposite way. When he sees the other sorcerers ready to open a new portal, he splits one of the creatures from the mass in the middle, directing them towards the sorcerers for easier transportation.

All the while, Tony keeps an eye on Stephen and the location of the old Avengers, making sure they don’t get too close. Really, he doesn’t know what he was worried about: They run around the flock in the middle a bit aimlessly, only jumping in when one escapes from the tight ring they have driven them into, smashing them back in with much more force and violence than is necessary. Tony sees Wanda lift a larger creature that has broken free, flinging it back towards the center, knocking over about five more in the process, and can’t help but roll his eyes.

Despite the Rogues being overall completely unhelpful, they make quick work of the gathered creatures, sending them back. True to Stephen’s word, it only takes him a few minutes to close the rift, and he immediately drops down to the ground when it has vanished, helping them send the remaining creatures into their home dimensions.

When they’re done, the masters send a curt nod Stephen’s way before casting a portal and disappearing through it without another word.

“Tony!” Steve yells, and Tony wishes he could run into the portal after the masters to disappear quickly. It doesn’t even matter where he would end up.

With a sigh he turns around and lets the helmet of his suit retract but keeps the rest of it in place. He can use the added security and height it provides. “What?”

Tony sees Stephen turn and watch them from a few feet away, dormant but ready to step in at a moment’s notice. It does a lot to soothe Tony’s nerves.

“I haven’t seen you since…” Steve trails off and swallows audibly before he continues, “since Thanos. We should talk.”

“I’ve been busy, doing the usual. How’re you? Good? Great, nice talk!” Tony fires at Steve without an opening for him to get a word in, ready to turn around and leave with Stephen.

“Wait, Tony!” Steve exclaims and grabs for Tony’s arm. Before he’s close enough to touch, some sparks of orange appear and Steve pulls back like he’s been burnt. Tony barely manages to suppress his smirk when he sees Stephen still standing a few feet away, pretending to be idly waiting for them to be done.

“What do you want Rogers?” Tony asks, glaring at him and ignoring the little display of magic.

“I just… I just need to talk to you.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” Tony replies.

“Tony, you need to understand that Bucky wasn’t himself when he-” Steve starts but is interrupted by Tony’s annoyed, “Really, Steve, you’re still droning on about Barnes?”

“You won’t even let me talk to him!” Steve shouts, pointing a finger at Tony and he sees out of the corner of his eye the way Stephen turns, glaring at Rogers with hard lines etched into his face and concern for Tony in his blue eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Tony asks, not minding that all of his exasperation is seeping into his voice. “Barnes is being treated with the technology I designed, but I’ve got nothing to do with his treatment, I haven’t even seen him in months.”

Steve looks utterly confused at that bit of information. “Then why haven’t I heard from him?”

Tony shrugs noncommittally, “You’ve got to ask him that yourself, or ask the psychologists that are helping him.” When Tony sees the lost look in Steve’s eyes he sighs and adds, “All I heard is that they’ve been discussing plans for him to join the new Avengers team, so he’s probably made a lot of progress on his conditioning.”

Steve’s eyes shine with a renewed light when he looks at Tony with a small smile. “Well, maybe it really is time for us to come back home, we’ve been thinking about it for a while now. And this here just assured me that we should be available if something occurs, we need to be together when something big happens again.”

Tony blinks at Steve and opens his mouth. This is definitely not what that was supposed to mean. And how on earth would what went down here be a sign that the new Avengers need Rogers? He was no help at all. Tony closes his mouth again and swallows, thinking about his reaction before he springs any other horrible ideas on Rogers.

“You do what you have to,” he finally settles on, knowing that there is no way to stop Rogers from what he thinks is right anyways.

Steve nods at him with a relieved and amenable smile, unaware of Tony’s unhappiness about his sudden decision. Running after Barnes again, the old game. Well, this is going to go horribly. If Barnes hasn’t sought out contact with Steve, Tony can’t imagine that the man will be particularly thrilled by this news.

When Steve turns around to leave, Stephen steps up behind Tony, closer than is strictly necessary and breathes into his ear, “Ready to go?”

It makes a shudder run down Tony’s back and he answers gratefully, “Yes, please, let’s get out of here.”

Stephen grins at the reaction he’s drawn from Tony and opens a portal back to the compound, gesturing for Tony to go through first. When they step through, they’re met with loud music booming from all the boxes. Crazy in Love is running on full volume and Tony groans loudly.

“Friday, turn that down.” With exasperation he turns to Stephen and mutters, “I should have never let the kids have access to the stereo.”

He falters for a moment when he takes in the sorcerer’s bright red head and the way he’s purposely looking at anything but Tony, quickly making the connection. “What’s that story?” Tony asks, a wide grin spreading all over his face.

“No story,” Stephen croaks hoarsely, then clears his throat, head turning even redder.

Tony steps closer, grin still wide on his face. “Tell me. I won’t tell anyone else,” he replies, cheekily winking at the other man.

Stephen clears his throat again and mutters, “I have something to do,” before he steps backwards into an opening portal and disappears. Despite the sudden departure Tony feels ecstatic. He will definitely get that secret out of the sorcerer.

***

The plan works perfectly and Tony grins at an overenthusiastic Peter who slips in again and again to refill the sorcerer’s drink when he isn’t looking. Granted, Peter doesn’t know what this is actually about, thinking they’re trying to get Stephen drunk so he loosens up for once and has a nice evening. Tony has ulterior motives though.

Tony has successfully lured Stephen to the party that he’s throwing for the return of Rogers, Barton and Maximoff. Well, actually he just needed an excuse to throw a party to get Stephen drunk and he needed a reason to make Stephen come to said party in the first place. It was just a very convenient opportunity.

When he feels Stephen’s inebriated enough, Tony slides up at the bar next to him. Stephen looks over and relaxes a little. “There you are,” he mutters. “About time you showed up.”

Tony grins into his own drink at the annoyed tone. “Miss me?”

Stephen glares at him for a moment. “I thought you were good at throwing parties. This is the most boring gathering I’ve ever been to. It’s worse than a meeting with the other masters,” he grumbles under his breath.

Tony laughs before he leans over and into Stephen’s space to whisper, “That’s why you’re here. I didn’t think I’d survive another one of these things alone. Rogers bans everything that’s fun as soon as the name Avengers is anywhere on it.”

“And what am I supposed to do about that?” Stephen retorts. “Did you expect me to portal all of them back to Wakanda?”

Tony snorts. “Not a bad idea,” he mutters in reply. Stephen chuckles, relaxing further into his stool and Tony looks over him with a critically assessing gaze. “Sorry, I forgot how old you are. Maybe it was a bad idea inviting you,” he jibes with a purposefully neutral tone, barely able to hide his laughter inside.

Stephen raises an eyebrow at him before he mutters, “Dick. I’m certainly more fun than any of them.”

“Well, still debatable,” Tony objects, taking a swig from his drink. When Stephen throws him an incredulous look, he just grins. “Prove it to me then. I’ve never seen you be not serious,” Tony states.

Stephen spins around on his stool to scan the room, promptly almost falling off with the movement. Tony grabs his arm to keep him from toppling over and thinks that the other man is much more drunk than he seemed. Stephen pretends like nothing happened and watches the others for a moment, slow grin spreading over his face and waving one of his hands subtly.

There is screeching laughter from across the room as Steve Rogers’ pants slip down to his ankles, who quickly pulls them back up and retreats with a red head.

Tony snorts, before he says, “Wow. What are we in high school?”

Stephen frowns before he replies, “What would you rather have me do?” Tony grins at him so Stephen turns his chair back to face Tony, placing one arm on the bar’s countertop and leaning his head on his hand, close to Tony. “What?”

“Tell me the story behind Crazy in Love,” Tony prompts easily.

Stephen starts to laugh, then retorts just as easily, “No.”

“See? Boring,” Tony answers with a little pout, swirling his drink inside his glass.

Stephen chuckles before he answers, “You couldn’t handle it if I told you.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Tony says, grinning and leaning closer. “Spill.”

Stephen looks at him with narrowed eyes for a moment, before he says, “I strip teased to that song.”

Tony bursts out laughing, doubling over with it, wheezing when he comes back up. “Okay, you caught me off guard there,” he giggles, trying hard not to spill his drink. “Now really, what was it?” When Stephen just smirks at him Tony falters. “You are shitting me, right?” he questions.

Stephen chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m not.”

“I don’t believe it,” Tony says. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would,” Stephen retorts. “I did.”

“Nah ah,” Tony shakes his head, “No way.” Stephen holds his gaze and Tony starts to feel his cheeks burn as he imagines it, quickly hiding it in a lopsided smile. “I won’t believe it till I see it,” he states, then takes another swig of his drink.

Stephen laughs, before he teases, “You couldn’t handle it.”

“Could,” Tony says immediately.

Stephen narrows his eyes at him for another moment, then grins and says, “Okay.”

Tony splutters but Stephen gets back to his drink and when Peter comes over to talk to them, Tony lets it go. That night, Tony definitely doesn’t dream of swaying narrow hips with pale skin and blue green eyes.

*** Song is Crazy in Love, Cover by The Eden Project and Leah Kelly  
Tony is in his lab when he hears the sound of a portal opening behind him. He quickly spins around but relaxes when he sees Stephen step through it.

He whistles when he takes in the man’s outfit, getting up and stalking over to the sorcerer, grinning at him. The man is dressed in a well-tailored black tux with a white dress shirt and a black bow tie sitting neatly around his neck. To sum up, he looks tall, dark and handsome. Tony lets his eyes roam hungrily over the man’s body.

“I was told you could handle it,” Stephen says, voice deep and low. The rumbling sound moves straight to Tony’s groin and he looks at the doctor, shocked. “Friday, lock down the lab please,” Stephen says. When Friday makes an affirmative noise, he waves his hand and music starts to play. There’s the sound of slow piano chords before the low singing starts.

Tony’s mouth goes dry and suddenly he’s at a loss for words as the sorcerer stares into his eyes. With another sweeping gesture Tony is propelled backwards into his chair and the air rushes from his lungs, Stephen slowly stalking after him.

‘I look and stare so deep in your eyes.’ The doctor’s eyes never leave the mechanic’s ones. His hips sway exaggeratedly from side to side and the jacket of his tux slips slowly from his shoulders. Tony swallows and silently watches the man coming towards him, moving in time with the music. When the jacket completely slips off of him, he grabs it and throws it towards the mechanic, perfectly settling it over his shoulder. Tony breathes in the scent of the sorcerer drifting off of the jacket on his shoulder while he watches the man’s hands sensually roam over his own body.

He steps even closer, slowly opening the bow tie and then letting it hang loosely around his slender neck. Tony can feel the bulge that starts to show in his pants but can’t help himself. The doctor looks stunning and Tony’s eyes eagerly follow every movement of his magnificent body. He has admitted to himself some time ago that he finds the other man attractive, but now he wants to ravage him, longing to touch.

Stephen sways his hips from one side to the other in time with the beat, slowly starting to unbutton his dress shirt. Tony stares as the sorcerer’s pale skin is revealed inch by painfully slow inch. Stephen tugs the white material out of his pants, opens the last button and lets it fall to the ground behind him. Tony swallows again, throat too dry as all of the pale chest is revealed before him.

Stephen slowly turns around while both of his hands are moving upwards from his stomach over his defined pecs to grip at his neck. When his back is turned to Tony his stance is wider and he stretches forward, down to the ground. A quiet moan slips past Tony’s lips as Stephen’s pants deliciously stretch over his firm ass. The doctor reaches towards Tony through his legs and winks at him, before settling his hand on his own butt, slowly retreating it back to the front, stroking over all of the parts in between his legs. When he turns back around with a lascivious smile on his face, Tony spots the bulge that has started to form in the doctor’s pants as well and mutters a low, “Fuck.”

Only when his arms are suddenly pulled to the back of the chair, does Tony notice that he’d started to palm himself through his trousers. Stephen shakes his head a little and Tony feels something warm encircle his wrists behind his back and tie them together. “Shit,” he breathes, watching Stephen smile down at him, unable to hide from the doctor’s intense gaze.

‘I don't do this, I've been playing myself‘‚ sounds from the speakers and by god, Tony hopes that no one else gets to see this Stephen. Something possessive rushes through him and he wants to mark all of that pale skin, claim the man in front of him. Stephen’s hands are roaming over his own chest again for a while, then, for the shortest moment dip into the front of his trousers, before he retracts them and unclips his belt buckle. He grips the belt and slowly pulls it out of the loops.

Tony is mesmerized staring at long slender fingers, shaking slightly, with light pink scars that stand out starkly against the pale skin. Stephen steps up to Tony, looping the belt around Tony’s neck before he comes even closer, lowering himself into the mechanic’s lap. Tony stares up at the tall man in his lap, hands struggling against the bonds behind his back. Stephen smiles seductively before he rocks his hips forward, rubbing his front against Tony’s stomach but hovering just far enough over Tony’s legs that there’s no friction for the mechanic.

Tony’s cock is now completely hard, aching with need. When Tony shoves his own hips upwards, Stephen makes a low disapproving ‘tsssk’ sound, and then Tony feels magic bonds tying his thighs and calves to his chair as well. Stephen pulls on the belt looped around Tony’s neck and Tony’s eyes snap towards the pale pecs in front of his face. Eagerly, he latches his mouth onto one of the nipples hovering just inches in front of him. Tony delights in the shocked gasp from the man above him, suckling and licking at the nipple. Stephen groans and a shudder runs through him.

He had expected Tony to enjoy the show and then pretend like nothing happened, like the last timeline where they did this. However, he hadn’t expected Tony to participate and eagerly lap at his skin. For a brief moment he thinks about retreating and burying this experience before they step over a line that they can’t cross back over, but when Tony bites down on his pec, Stephen cries out and ruts down onto Tony’s bulging erection, every coherent thought escaping him.

Tony moans loudly around the skin he’s sucked into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed at the maddening friction, spurred on by the delicious sounds of the sorcerer. When Stephen lets the belt drop and stands up again, moving backwards, Tony lets out a displeased yelp, staring into the other’s eyes. Stephen’s eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown wide when he stares back at Tony. He can see Stephen’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and then his hands untie his pants, shoving them down from his narrow hips. Tony lets out a relieved sigh and grins, licking his lips at the sight before him.

Stephen’s erection is completely visible through the thin black boxer briefs. He raises an eyebrow at Tony before he asks, “How far do you want to take this?”

Tony looks back up at him with hungry eyes and replies with a steadier voice than expected, “However far you’re willing to go, Grandpa.”

Stephen chuckles at Tony’s comment, the sound making Tony’s cock twitch against the fabric of his trousers. Stephen turns his back towards Tony again, showing off his butt before his fingers hook under the fabric and he slowly pulls the last piece of clothing down. He stretches forward to pull them all the way down and Tony gasps when he sees something metallic sparkle between the doctor’s buttcheeks.

“Are you…” Tony trails off uncertainly, staring into the doctor’s face when he turns back towards him again.

Stephen slowly settles back into his lap, hands roaming through Tony’s brown hair, chuckling at the dumbfounded expression on the man’s face. “Not so boring now, huh?” he grins.

Tony lets out a startled laugh which turns into a loud moan when Stephen rubs his cock against Tony’s still clothed one. Stephen leans forward to Tony’s ear, whispering, “I think you’re wearing too much.”

Tony nods, struggling against the bonds that still tie him to his chair, almost completely immobile. Stephen chuckles directly next to Tony’s ear, a shiver running down the mechanic’s back at the sound. With another wave of his hand, Tony’s clothes are gone, and he gasps and shudders as the cold air of the lab suddenly hits his bare skin. Tony makes use of the sorcerer being so close to him and moves to bite at the man’s throat, drawing a loud moan from the older man.

Tony grins when he feels the bonds dissipate, hands immediately moving to grab anywhere he can reach. For a moment he’s content to run his calloused fingers over the other man’s thighs and back, delighting in the shivers that run through him. One hand moves up to tangle in Stephen’s hair and pull the man into a kiss, the other grips at his ass. Tony rocks his hips in time with Stephen, the friction making his heart race in his chest.

Tony’s hand slides in between Stephen’s cheeks and grips the end of the heavy metallic plug, tugging on it experimentally. Stephen moans into his mouth and presses his ass back against Tony’s hand. Tony uses the chance to slip his tongue into the doctor’s mouth and explore, drawing another languid moan from the man. He bites at the other’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, then gives another tug at the plug, a little harder this time.

Stephen cries out, eyelids heavy and breathing rapid as he desperately grinds onto Tony. The mechanic smiles, eager to take control. For a moment he wonders if it’s too much but then he thinks of the bonds Stephen used to constrain him to the chair and goes for it regardless.

“Tell me if this is too much,” he says, after drawing back and looking straight into the doctor’s eyes. Stephen watches him for a few seconds before he nods. Tony signals for his suit and then the nanos rush to comply his command. Some of it rushes to Stephen’s wrists, tying around them and then pulling them behind the sorcerer’s back where they click together. The rest moves to Stephen’s bare ankles, clasping around them and then forming a bar between each other, widening his legs a little before keeping them steady by binding to the legs of a nearby table as well. Stephen groans, shuddering in the mechanic’s arms, breathing rapid.

“This okay?” Tony asks, searching the doctor’s face for any clues. His eyes are pressed closed, as are his lips. There is a short pause before the doctor nods. Tony regards him skeptically. “You sure? We don’t have to do this,” he supplies.

Stephen quickly shakes his head. “No. Feels good,” he breathes, opening his eyes to look at Tony. Tony swallows at the needy look of the sorcerer. His pupils are blown so wide there’s barely any blue left, his mouth parted slightly, and his breaths puff out against Tony’s nose. Tony realizes that despite the usually cool and collected exterior, the man before him is aching to give up control, give up responsibility.

Tony smiles at him before he starts to suck at Stephen’s nipples again. One arm is snaked around the sorcerer’s middle keeping him upright since he has nothing left to hold onto, the other starts to rub and pinch his other nipple. Stephen’s feet are rooted firmly in place by the cuffs around them and he moans as Tony tips him back a little, only Tony’s arm around his waist keeping him from falling.

Tony uses the position to run his mouth across Stephen’s subtle abs, his free hand again returning to the plug in Stephen’s ass. He tugs and pushes at it in sporadic intervals, circling it around lightly in between. Stephen lets out an obscene string of curses and moans, giving in to Tony’s administrations. Tony latches onto the doctor’s pale skin, leaving dark bruises everywhere, happily marking the beautiful man in his lap.

After a while he pulls the man back up, leaning his weight against Tony’s chest before he starts to pull the plug out slowly. Stephen moans loudly and bites down on Tony’s shoulder, shuddering in the mechanic’s arms. Tony slowly fucks the man with the thick metallic plug, stretching him open. Tony’s cock twitches painfully with every sound Stephen lets out against his shoulder but he keeps at it.

When Stephen breathes a shuddery, “please,” into Tony’s neck after some time, it’s almost enough to push Tony over the edge. He pulls the plug out completely and lets it clutter to the floor.

“I’ve got some-” he starts but is immediately interrupted by the sorcerer. “All good,” he murmurs, his arms tensing as his hands perform a quick spell behind his back. When Tony reaches back around, his hole is dripping in slick. Tony groans and grips the sorcerer’s hips to lift him up, then lowers him onto his shaft slowly, both men moaning loudly as Tony slips into Stephen’s wet heat.

Tony waits to let Stephen get used to his girth, but the sorcerer quickly snaps, “Move, Stark.” Tony chuckles at the commanding voice, circling his arm back around the man’s waist. Then he starts to pound up into him, first slowly but quickly increasing his pace and thrusting harder. Stephen cries out at their position, the lack of leverage making him bounce wildly in Tony’s lap, trapped between his arm and his chest. Tony’s other hand comes to the front to take Stephen’s cock and he starts pumping it at the same time he finds that sweet spot inside Stephen.

Stephen’s cry echoes around the walls of the lab when he comes, covering his stomach and Tony’s chest in his come. Tony follows suit when Stephen clenches around him, muffling his cry in the man’s neck.

When Stephen comes back down, Tony mentally opens the restraints and Stephen bonelessly slumps into him, arms shaking as they come around to hold onto Tony’s shoulders. He rubs soothing circles into the man’s back, one arm still slung around his waist. He’s a little scared when he finds himself not wanting to let go. When Stephen starts to shiver, Tony reaches for the tuxedo jacket that had slipped down next to his chair earlier and carefully drapes it around the man’s shoulders.

When there’s no reaction at all Tony turns his head to look at him only to realize that he’s fallen asleep with his head on Tony’s shoulder, even breath ghosting over Tony’s neck. He smiles at the peaceful expression on the doctor’s face, which is slack with relaxation. He’s beautiful like this, Tony thinks. He carefully holds Stephen close and despite their considerable height difference, manages to carry him over to the couch at the far wall of his lab without waking him. He must be really exhausted, Tony notes.

He carefully lays the sleeping man down on the couch before draping a blanket over his sleeping form. When Stephen turns in his sleep, his unruly hair flops into his face and Tony can’t help but chuckle. He quietly gets dressed again, spotting the clothes he wore earlier folded neatly on his desk. He goes back to sit at his desk and work on his suit, looking over at the sleeping man on his couch every once in a while.

Tony is pulled out of his workflow, when he hears distressed noises coming from the couch. Stephen’s eyes are squeezed closed and his hands are clenched above his heart.

Tony gets up to quickly walk over, trying to determine what exactly is going on. Stephen’s face is scrunched up like he’s in pain and for a moment Tony’s worried it might be from what they did earlier. He carefully goes down beside the couch, studying Stephen’s distressed form.

“No,” Stephen gasps, almost inaudible and Tony reaches out, carefully placing one hand on his shoulder. Within moments Stephen goes stock-still, before his eyes suddenly snap open to look straight at Tony. His blue depths are glistening and frightened, but his body relaxes as he takes in his face, one hand reaching out to cup Tony’s cheek.

“Hi,” Tony murmurs, grinning at Stephen and the other laughs quietly before he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Tony’s lips, drawing him closer with his hand. Tony melts into it and reciprocates gingerly, knowing and ignoring that Stephen is using this to divert his attention. He gets not wanting to talk about nightmares and if this is the alternative, he’s happy to go along.

When Stephen pulls away, he sits up on the couch, the blanket slipping off his shoulders and pooling around his waist. He stares down at his own bare chest in what looks like surprise for a moment before a subtle blush spreads over his cheeks and then he’s standing, slinging the blanket around his waist and stalking around the room to collect his still wildly scattered clothes.

Tony sits down on the couch, soaking up Stephen’s warmth from the heated cushions and can’t help but grin widely as he watches the other man move around, bruises from Tony’s kisses marking his pale chest and throat.

“You know what? Your moping was useless. There is someone else for you in this timeline,” he beams.

Stephen, who’d just bent down to pick up his shirt, straightens up again and turns to look at Tony. For a moment he stares at him silently, disbelievingly, before he groans loudly, making Tony frown in confusion.

“God, you're an idiot. I'm seriously questioning your intelligence,” Stephen says, shaking his head, picking his shirt back up and slipping it on.

Tony is silent for a long moment, mulling over his reaction, their conversations replaying in his mind. Stephen’s blatant use of _they._

_It sometimes ended in one or both of us dying but… Never because I couldn’t trust them._

_You were the only one in that room who’s never killed me._

_Wait, spare his life and I will give you the stone._

_No, please. He didn’t have anything to do with it._

“You were talking about me?!” Tony squeaks in realization as the words in his head click into place, before demanding more firmly, “I was your second person!”

“Congratulations, Captain obvious,” Stephen retorts, rolling his eyes at Tony.

“ _Why_ didn't you say anything?!” Tony yells, rage making his blood boil. They’ve been dancing around each other for months, it had been completely unnecessary. Stephen already knew they could work, judging from his reaction when talking about the second person he was with, he’d been _aching_ to have this, all while leaving Tony in the dark.

“Because you didn't tell me that you were single, dipshit. You never mentioned that you and Pepper weren't getting married anymore,” Stephen growls back and Tony remembers what else he said. _They’re happy with someone else already. I think it’s better that way._ He’s not sure whether he wants to slap Stephen or himself.

“How often?” he asks, needing to know the odds. They could make this work, right? He’s certain that they’re good together, because they _get each other_ like nobody else does, and still he needs the confirmation.

“It's not important.”

“How often, Stephen!”

Stephen grumbles and fiddles with the belt he’s dragging back through the loops of his pants before he mutters, “A few hundred timelines.”

Tony stares at him blankly. _A few hundred!?_ If he’d fallen in love with Tony a few hundred times over, how could he have just discarded that so easily. And then Tony remembers. He hadn’t. Stephen had made it clear at the start that he didn’t want Tony around.

“Oh my god. You're the idiot! That's why you completely ignored me when we came back, isn't it?” he states.

“Yes,” Stephen answers solemnly.

“Jesus,” Tony breathes, uncertain what else to say. For a moment some awkward silence settles between them, before Tony asks, brow furrowing in confusion, "How did you know I was single then?"

"Peter," Stephen replies matter-of-factly, and really, it is all the explanation needed.

Tony snorts and shakes his head. "That kid really can't keep anything to himself. It's a miracle the whole world doesn't know he's Spiderman yet."

Stephen nods before he muses, "I'm surprised he didn't let it slip earlier. He never shuts up about you."

"Yeah, well, I can't believe we owe it to him that we finally got our shit together," Tony complains, making Stephen laugh out loudly.

"It isn't the first time," Stephen informs him and Tony has to fight the urge to facepalm.

"Just, please, don't tell me Crazy in Love just became our song," Tony says while walking over to the sorcerer. He is rewarded with a genuine laugh and grins happily at him, eyes raking over his face. He is distracted enough to not notice that DUM-E has wheeled right into his path, until his shin connects with the bot and it lets out a series of disgruntled beeps.

„DUM-E! I swear you are a menace,” Tony says, causing DUM-E to tilt his claw to the ground sadly and back away with more beeps. Tony huffs before he looks back up at the other man, who stares at him blankly, mouth slightly agape in shock, eyes opened far too wide for Tony’s comfort. “What?”

Stephen’s eyes blink suddenly, face scrunching up, brows drawing together tightly. He doubles over with a gasp and then his knees buckle and he slips down to the floor.

“Stephen?” Tony asks worriedly, hurrying over to him.

“No!” Stephen exclaims and Tony freezes in shock. Stephen lifts himself up enough to throw Tony a look out of watered up blue eyes, apologetic, before he slips the sling ring out of his suit pocket and is gone within seconds.

Tony stares in confusion at the spot where Stephen had just been. The first thing his brain supplies is panic attack, but Tony isn’t sure that that’s what happened. He calls Stephen five times before he drops his phone with a curse and snatches up his keys.

The trip to the Sanctum isn’t any more successful, as he pounds on and rattles at a firmly closed door. Within the next days, Tony’s worry and dread turn into rage and ugly insecurities brewing in the pit of his soul, demanding to be let free. He hadn’t realized before that if Stephen doesn’t want to talk to him, there is no way, even with all of his technology, that he can make him.

When he sees Stephen again, it’s only for meetings with the Avengers and on missions and it’s clear that whatever happened, Stephen doesn’t want to have contact with Tony, staying as far away as he can and dismissing him quickly whenever Tony tries to corner him.

*** ~~~~

"Hey, wait," Tony calls, hurrying after Stephen who immediately left the meeting room after having told the rest of the team that their mission wasn't worth his time in a quite unfriendly manner. Stephen grudgingly stops so Tony can catch up to him, shoulders tense and mouth drawn into a thin line.

"Are you seriously going to let whatever your problem with me is stand between helping the Avengers save lives?" Tony asks accusingly, rage bubbling hotly under his skin. Ever since they had sex, Stephen has been distant and cold, meticulously keeping his distance to Tony and Tony has mostly let him, despite the way it hurts. But he never thought that Stephen would put that above their duties and it causes the powder keg that has been himself for a while now to explode.

"This is not about us," Stephen snaps. "I actually have something else that needs my attention more direly at the moment." Tony swallows at the tense tone, knowing that it's not as one might think at first anger that makes Stephen's voice pitch in this manner, but worry.

"What kind of something?" Tony implores, staring straight into Stephen's eyes. He wants to whack himself over the head for not noticing this sooner. In his very subtle and controlled way it's hard to read but Stephen actually oozes unease and worry through the minuscule cracks in his mask.

Stephen worries at his lower lip with his teeth and it makes dread settle in Tony's stomach as well, having never seen this particular nervous habit from the sorcerer. Tony swallows around the dry lump in his throat and mutters, "Come with me."

He hears the man's steps as he follows him to Tony's office, where Tony holds the door open for him. Stephen steps in and sits in the chair across from Tony's desk, picking at the cloak's corners all the while. Tony frowns at his behavior and pulls his own chair around the desk to sit right next to Stephen.

"Listen, we can put aside whatever thing this is between us for the moment. Just talk to me, what's wrong?" Tony asks him, elbows settled on his knees as he watches Strange, who stays quiet, worrying at his lower lip again.

"I need to retrieve an artifact," Stephen mutters at the ground with a deep crease between his brows.

"And what has you so worried about that is... " Tony prompts softly.

Stephen sighs and rubs a hand across his face, making the dark circles under his eyes snap to Tony's attention. Stephen has obviously been losing sleep about this, which really isn't a good sign. "The artifact is in a dimension that constantly drains magical energy, but it's too powerful to leave there unattended," he discloses finally.

Tony watches him carefully. "How bad of a drain are we talking?” He observes how Stephen goes back to kneading the cloak's corner with his prominently shaking hands.

"We don't know. For weeks I've been traveling to any library I know of in this galaxy and all the dimensions known to us. There're no accounts of anyone returning from this dimension," Stephen explains.

Tony sucks in a sharp breath, heart pounding painfully against the inside of his ribcage. "What do you know then?" he asks worriedly.

Stephen takes a deep breath to calm himself before he starts rattling off the little information they have, "The dimension severely drains magical energy. We can only guess how quickly this happens, but we assume that it's half an hour, tops, before I won't be able to perform any magic. That means I won't be able to cast my own portal back and we cannot risk sending anyone else in after me. The dimension is extremely cold, so without magic to keep the body temperature at a natural level, hypothermia will probably not take long to set in. Also, there is an indigenous species, but we know nothing about them."

Tony swallows heavily. "What artifact is worth all this trouble?" he inquires, uncertain whether or not he actually wants to know.

Stephen rubs at his face again before he answers, "It's a mind control artifact. It acts as a hive brain for all the beings attached to it, effectively enslaving them. It was created using the mind stone but powered up with a collapsing star. The reach of its control is a planet, at least. It has been knowingly left where it is for millennia, but word has spread that the remaining children of Thanos are looking for it to create a new army."

Tony shudders at Strange's words. He was aware that some of Thanos' loyal followers had survived but had hoped that earth would not have to deal with them in the future. "If it's been there for millennia and there are no accounts of the dimension, how do you know so much about this artifact?" Tony asks, frowning at the sorcerer. He shudders involuntarily when the man finally looks at him, his eyes shimmering with blank fear that he’s never seen before from Stephen.

"In some of the futures I saw in the timestone, Thanos obtained it somehow and used it to..." Stephen's voice breaks for a moment and Tony leans forward, placing a comforting hand on Stephen's shoulder, unable to imagine the terror that Stephen must have seen caused by this thing.

"It's okay," Tony murmurs when Stephen tries to continue but his voice fails him. Tony offers Stephen a moment of silence to collect himself before he takes his hand back and asks, "Why didn't you ask the Avengers for help? This arrangement of helping we have goes both ways. And if the dimension drains magical energy, wouldn't the Avengers be much more suited to handle this?"

Stephen quickly shakes his head, voice still trembling when he speaks, "What I told you about before are the active effects of it, but the passive effects are just as dangerous. It sort of... calls for people to activate it. Barton once said to me that the call of it in its passive form is just as strong as Loki's scepter being actively used on someone. And it's a self-protecting artifact, so even in its passive form it causes people to at least defend it."

Tony shudders violently, fear gripping his throat in a tight hold and constricting his air flow. "What about Wanda and Vision?" he croaks.

Stephen shakes his head. "They were just as affected as anybody else. I've already tried to place a protective mind spell on Wong, but the moment the portal opened he tried to chop my head off. Literally." Stephen sighs, sinking his head into his hands. "There is no way of getting any help for this."

Tony has to contain himself from reaching out and checking Stephen's neck and throat for injuries left by Wong. "How are you protecting yourself then?" he asks the sorcerer, almost regretting his question when Stephen lifts his head to shoot him a wry smile.

"With roughly seventy years of experiencing its influence I've managed to build strong enough walls inside my mind to be somewhat resistant. I still feel it, but I can withstand the effects."

Tony sucks in a sharp breath, stating, "You were mind controlled by it." Stephen answers him with a nod and a muffled, "Several times."

Tony looks at the mess before him that is Stephen, tired and lonely, with desperation clouding those beautiful eyes. “It’s basically made out of the same materials as the scepter then, right? Amplified but in its core the same thing?” Tony inquires, holding on to a little glimmer of hope.

Stephen watches him carefully, confirming Tony’s assumption. Tony continues with another question, “What about me?”

Stephen frowns at him, murmuring, “Tony, this really isn’t the time.”

Tony rolls his eyes and replies, “No, dumbass. Was I influenced by it?”

Stephen opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, frowning, before he says, “I’m not sure. I actually think I never experienced a timeline where the artifact was used with you still…” Stephen trails off and Tony huffs as he finishes Stephen’s sentence, “alive, yeah.”

He continues to suggest, “Well, when Loki tried to use the scepter on me in New York, it didn’t work. Maybe this won’t affect me either?”

Stephen looks at him with obvious surprise. “I… didn’t know that. Why didn’t it work on you?” Stephen asks, brow creased as he’s mulling over the possibility of someone else being able to stand against the mind controlling artifact. Hope is sparking inside him, because honestly, he doesn’t want to go alone.

Tony shrugs before he says, “I think it had something to do with the arc reactor, it seemed like it absorbed the energy.”

Stephen thinks for a moment before he says, “It’s possible that it will work with this artifact as well.”

“It’s settled then. I’m coming with you,” Tony replies and Stephen promptly raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’re coming with me if you don’t try to rip my throat out the moment the portal opens,” he corrects quickly.

Tony smirks at him and replies, “What if that has nothing to do with your mysterious mind thingy?”

Stephen rolls his eyes but chuckles nonetheless, a little bit of the previous tension bleeding out of his shoulders. “We’ll go tonight, 8pm. Meet me at the Sanctum and make sure to wear something warm in that armor,” Stephen states, getting up from the chair and turning to leave.

“Wait,” Tony exclaims, “how are we getting back if you can’t open a portal anymore?”

Stephen looks at him for a moment, then replies, “Wong will open a portal after some time has passed, and hopefully we’ll be done by then.”

Tony sighs and rubs his eyes, muttering, “This is not going to go well.”

***

At 8pm, Tony is standing in front of the Sanctum, wearing an under suit with a built in heating and thick layers on top of that, already sweating in the relatively warm New York air. When he knocks on the massive door, the cloak opens and greets him with a wave of its corner, before leading the way deeper into the Sanctum, Tony following close behind.

They approach a room after taking several turns around the long corridors that always make Tony feel like he’s walking around the Tardis, when he starts to hear Stephen’s and Wong’s voices drifting towards him. Shortly, he’s rounding the corner and stepping into the room where they are waiting, the cloak immediately draping over Stephen’s shoulders.

Stephen wears robes in a darker shade of blue than his usual ones, made of a thicker material and big gloves on his hands. When Wong spots Tony he mutters a quick greeting before turning back to Stephen and reminding him sternly, “Two hours. Then I will open a portal. If you aren’t there, I will open another portal at hourly intervals.”

Stephen nods at him, grim expression on his face and Wong wishes them well before exiting the room and closing the door.

“This room is shielded, no magic cast inside it will affect the outside,” Stephen explains shortly and Tony nods. His stomach is tight with nerves and his heart hurts just from being around Stephen. He knows that he should be focusing on the task at hand, but when he looks at Stephen he can’t wonder why. Something happened that made Stephen distance himself. Tony can see that he isn’t happy, has been seeing it for weeks now every time they crossed paths during meetings. What he doesn’t get though is why. And he’s not sure he’ll be able to suppress the urge to throttle an answer out of Stephen as soon as they’re back.

“What do we do with the artifact once we’ve found it?” he asks. Stephen points to a box that sits next to him on the floor. “This has pretty much the same effect as this room. If we place the artifact inside, it shouldn’t affect the outside.”

Tony raises an incredulous eyebrow at Stephen. “ _Shouldn’t_!?” he exclaims. “So, you don’t even know?”

Stephen just shrugs his shoulders. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll have to find another solution. And before Wong opens the portal to get us.”

Tony shakes his head. “This is a terrible plan, just for the record.”

“Well, I’ve got you for coming up with a backup plan, right?” Stephen questions and Tony is so close to throttling him before they’ve even started their mission.

“Great. Let’s just get this over with,” Tony mutters and Stephen nods. He takes a few steps away from Tony and keeps his eyes on him as he opens the portal. The moment it swerves open, Tony can feel the same tight pressure in his chest he felt when Loki tried to use the scepter on him. It’s uncomfortable like someone having attached a string to his insides and pulling on them insistently, but he’s still himself. He’ll take what he can get. He looks over at Stephen who remains tense for a few more seconds before he gives him a relieved nod.

From where he's standing, Tony can already feel the ice-cold air drift towards them, making his nose tingle uncomfortably and his eyes burn with tears.

"Last chance to get out," Stephen murmurs, and after only one more glance at him Tony steps through the portal first. The suit immediately bleeds around him, offering more protection against the cold.

Stephen is right behind him, the box for the artifact attached to his belt. He closes the portal and draws a fancy rune in the air, before shifting it to lay flat on his gloved palm. When Tony steps closer, he can see the small orange needle that spins a little before pointing somewhere off to their right.

"A compass?" Tony questions and Stephen shrugs before he answers, "I'm not trying to impress. This is fast and doesn't take much energy."

Tony would have thought that locating the artifact would prove more difficult, but he can't argue with fast and simple.

The cloak lifts Stephen into the air in the direction the compass shows them, and Tony quickly fires up his thrusters to follow them. The landscape below them consists of snow and ice, sudden gusts covering Tony’s sight with white powder. By the time they arrive at a mountainous region, Stephen is completely covered with snow, the cloak desperately trying to shake all of it off. His hair looks more salt than pepper with the added color, and if it wasn’t for the shaking and the sour expression, Tony would be laughing at both of them. Right now, he settles for being lucky that the facemask hides his smirk.

The cloak lowers Stephen onto the ground softly. When Tony follows the descent, his landing causes snow to fly in every direction, earning him an angry glare from Stephen. Tony can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him, now that the cloak’s attempts have been destroyed completely and the front of the robes is completely covered in powder.

“I hate you,” Stephen grumbles, before he pushes forward and strides into the cave. With every step a little bit of snow falls back to the ground, leaving a trail after him. When Tony follows him, the clanking of his boots against the stone of the cave floor echoes all around them.

With an exasperated sigh Stephen turns back to him with a deathly glare. “Are you serious?” he whispers demonstratively.

“What?” Tony replies innocently. The mechanic sound of his voice through the suit resonates even louder than his movements.

Stephen doesn’t have any time to reply, when they are suddenly swarmed with little black things, like insects, fluttering around them with a buzzing sound so loud it drowns out everything else.

Within seconds, Tony has lost sight of Stephen and the display of his helmet flares up with red warning signs all over, the alarm sounds barely audible over the rest of the noise.

“Stephen!” Tony yells, firing his repulsors as fast as he can, to no avail. The creatures swarming around him are like a solid wall, no light comes through, he can’t even see the light flashes from his repulsors firing. They also drown out any sound other than their furious screeching. His heads-up display indicates his energy level and to Tony’s horror, his arc reactor is depleting by the second, dropping fast and nothing he fires at these monsters can make it stop. When the energy reaches a critically low level, his nanites retreat back into their housing unit and Tony is swarmed so quickly, he doesn’t have any chance to even react before he loses consciousness.

Tony’s head hurts. His ears ring, his eyes sting and he can’t feel his legs anymore. He’s not sure whether that’s due to the fact that he’s so freaking cold or because the world is tilted upside down when he comes to. He groans and looks over himself, his clothes are completely ripped, only shreds of fabric still hanging off of his body. His legs are tied up and he’s hanging upside down from the cave ceiling. At closer inspection, the string tying him up seems to move and Tony realizes with disgust that it’s not really rope, but a thick string of those black insects that swarmed them earlier. When he looks down the length of his arms, bleeding sluggishly from some mostly shallow wounds, he can see the housing unit below him on the ground. Or more accurately, what’s left of it. It’s been taken apart, strewn across the floor of the cave and he’s certain that there’s no hope for salvaging anything that’s left of it. He’s hanging upside down from a cave ceiling, in a different dimension, without a suit and with no one who can save him. Splendid.

Tony groans and tries to wriggle his legs free, however all he succeeds in doing is agitating those insects, making them dig into the skin of his ankles. He hisses and stops struggling.

When he turns his head to look around more, he finally spots Stephen, hanging in a similar position a few feet away from him. He looks worse than Tony feels and Tony guesses that the suit protected him at least for some time from the insects. Stephen is practically nude, so little of his robes is left and there’s more blood covering him than there is pale skin. There’s a wound on his forehead that’s bleeding worse than the rest, steadily dripping blood to the ground from his hairline. The puddle of blood that’s already gathered beneath Stephen on the ground isn’t a good sign.

“Stephen!” Tony hisses. The sorcerer blinks his eyes open slowly, disoriented blues that can’t seem to focus on Tony. However, Tony refrains from saying anything else, as the sound seems to agitate the insects as well, spreading further down his legs like tar covering his skin. He inspects the rest of the cave, hoping to find anything that could help them. What he spots is an orb, glowing yellow, much the same color as the mind stone. They’re this close to the artifact they were looking for. Tony has the feeling that that doesn’t bode well for them.

He’s distracted by another sound approaching. It sounds like steps against the cave floor, reverberating from the stone walls. When the creature comes into view, Tony takes in a sharp breath. It must be sort of a queen of those insects. It’s got six long legs, the two at the front larger than the others, and they are shielded by a thick shell-like skin. Its head is adorned by various spikes, three eyes residing on either side of it. Close to what appears to be its mouth there are nippers, like those of a crab but much bigger. All in all, Tony guesses the creature is about twice his height. The creature hisses at them once it has reached the middle of the room and Tony scrunches his nose against the horrible smell of its breath.

He feels watched by those eerie eyes and it makes him struggle against his restraints once again. They definitely need to get out of there, and Stephen still hasn’t really moved. Tony isn’t sure whether he’s been drugged somehow by the insects or whether it’s because he’s in such terrible shape. It’s hard to tell in the dim light within the cave. The queen insect stops for a moment like it’s waiting on something and Tony’s heart beats rapidly in his chest. He has the feeling that he and Stephen are prey to this thing.

His suspicion is confirmed when it suddenly leaps forward, gripping Strange’s upper body between it’s nippers. Tony can see the blood that immediately starts to flow from the fresh wounds, and then he spots two rows of serrated teeth in its mouth as it lodges them into Stephen’s side. Strange starts screaming, eyes rapidly snapping open.

Tony screams as well, what for he can’t really tell. He’s thrashing wildly now, all of his efforts focused on getting free and helping Stephen. The struggling makes him sway from side to side, ever more small creatures spreading over his body. He catches Stephen’s eyes for a moment, panicked because the other man isn’t screaming anymore. Stephen’s face is covered in blood and Tony thinks that’s it. They’re both going to die here in a cave in some rotten dimension.

Then he manages to swing hard enough to make his shoulder collide with one of the queen’s nippers. It makes the creature release Stephen who lets out a pained groan. The thing turns on its spot, facing Tony and stalking towards him. He feels a sting in his side, dull and numb. It’s the exact same spot where the teeth had lodged into Stephen’s side. Is this some kind of magic? Is Stephen trying to tell him something?

Tony is desperate, yelling some variation of curses, threats and begs for help, mixed in with Stephen’s name from time to time. Strange’s eyes close for a moment and then they snap back open with renewed vigor, head immediately snapping towards the artifact in the middle of the room. Tony feels drained, like someone just took all of the energy he had left out of him, much the same as his suit was drained when they entered the cave.

His vision starts to blur as he sees Stephen’s arms move, orange glow emanating from them. Suddenly there’s a bright orange explosion as Stephen hurls whatever spell he had conjured at the artifact. The shockwave hits Tony right in the face and he’s propelled backwards, ripped free from the insects clinging to him, until his shoulder connects harshly with the wall. He’s surrounded by screeching again but this time it seems panicked instead of aggressive and it’s retreating quickly. When Tony manages to push himself up to his knees and wrench his eyes back open, he’s kneeling in an empty cave. All of the insects have left, there’s a small flame bristling where the artifact used to be, and he can’t feel it anymore. Whatever that tugging sensation was that it caused him, it’s gone. Stephen must have destroyed the artifact.

“Stephen!?” Tony tries to scream but it comes out raw and scratchy, not even loud enough to echo through the cave. Tony pushes himself up to wobbly legs, trying to see in the darkness that has spread over the room without the glowing artifact in it. When he catches a glimpse of pale skin, Tony dives forward, falling down next to the sorcerer, turning his crumpled figure over onto his back. Stephen hisses as the movement further hurts his injuries. It’s too dark to see exactly how injured he is but Tony guesses that it’s bad.

“Houdini, we need to leave,” Tony croaks. “Can you walk?”

“I don’t think so,” Stephen slurs. He’s obviously trying to move but he can’t even rouse himself into a sitting position.

“Shit.” Tony pushes himself back up to his legs. He can barely stand on his own, but he can’t think about that now. He needs to get Stephen out of here, needs to get him help. He has no idea how long it will be until Wong opens the portal or whether he’s already done that. When Tony spots something red a few feet away, he stumbles over, grabbing the motionless cloak from the floor. It’s mangled but mostly intact. Well, the fabric is mostly intact. It seems to be as lifeless as the remnants of Tony’s suit. “Shit,” he curses again. He drags the cloak over to Stephen, wrapping it around his middle and tying it together tightly in the front. He ignores Stephen’s hisses and moans of pain, because he has no time to feel bad for this now. Stephen is bleeding out and he needs to do something. When the cloak is in place, Tony heaves Stephen’s motionless arms over his shoulders and starts dragging him towards the light at what he hopes is the end of the cave. Stephen is a dead weight on his back, his feet dragging behind Tony across the floor. He doesn’t know whether those insects will come back, but he hopes that they’ll be out of this place before he will actually have to worry about that.

Once he’s dragged the larger man to the entrance of the cave he’s hit by gusts of wind, carrying icy shards and lots of powdery snow with them. He turns his head, to protect his face and keeps dragging Stephen further out into the cold. He hopes he’s going into the correct direction towards where Wong will open the portal, but he quickly loses sight of the cave behind him and in the monotonous white of the snowy landscape, without any tech or magic, he soon loses his orientation. He remembers that there was a tree where Stephen first opened the portal and he prays to whatever deity might possibly be out there in the universe, that he’ll get to it.

His bare feet are numb, the skin of his shins hurting like someone had stuck a thousand needles in it where his legs sink into the snow. But he can’t take a break. If he takes a break, who knows whether he might get started again. Some small part inside of him whispers that Stephen is too far gone, there’s nothing that can still help him, and the rational thing would be to take the cloak off Stephen’s lifeless form and try to save at least one of them. Tony grits his teeth and ignores that voice. He won’t leave Stephen behind, and he won’t give up hope. He’s Iron Man and he can do this.

Tony drags himself and Strange forward, but he can feel himself getting ever slower, his knees threatening to give out under him. He’s already lost all of the feeling in his feet, moving himself just by the sheer force of his willpower. When he spots something dark beside himself, he flinches, involuntarily dropping Stephen to the ground. It takes him a long moment to realize that it’s a tree. It’s the tree that he spotted when they came here! He’s not actually sure that it is, but he doesn’t have the energy to get them anywhere else anymore. It just has to be the right tree. Tony grabs Stephen’s wrists to drag him closer to said tree, trying to use it to shield them from the storm blowing around them. When he sees Stephen’s legs weakly kicking out like he’s trying to help Tony move him forward, a manic giggle escapes him. Stephen is still alive. He’s still alive and they still have a shot.

Tony pushes Stephen’s front up against the bark of the tree and lays down behind him, unable to keep upright himself any longer. He scoots as close to Stephen as he can, pressing his chest to Stephen’s back to preserve the little body heat that they’ve still got left.

“Stephen.” There’s no answer so Tony shakes the sorcerer by his shoulders, until he can hear him make some sort of grunting sound. “Stephen,” he tries again.

This time Stephen answers with a moaned and inarticulate, “what?”

Relieved, Tony replies, “We should talk to each other in order to stay awake. We can’t fall asleep.”

“You mean annoy each other to stay awake?” Stephen asks and Tony smiles at the snark that slips into Stephen’s voice, even if his speech is still slow and somewhat slurred. That already sounds much better.

“Exactly,” Tony murmurs, snaking one arm around Stephen’s chest to hold him closer. His fingers catch on a deep gash, much deeper and straighter than any wound the insects would have left behind. His fingers immediately trace along the line, stretching from the base of Stephen’s throat on one shoulder across the width of his whole chest.

“Jesus, what did that?” Tony asks, then curls his hand back around one of Stephen’s pecs and pulls him as close as he can.

“An Eldritch Whip. We weren’t expecting the passive effects to be quite so strong despite the mind spell, so Wong caught me off guard,” Stephen answers.

“I am going to maim Wong one day,” Tony threatens with chattering teeth. It does take some of the heat out of his statement.

“Why?” Stephen slurs, and Tony can practically hear the furrowed brows through Stephen’s voice.

“Because he’s the worst at taking care of you,” Tony replies deadpan.

“Well, don’t flatter yourself. This was awful. I'm definitely never taking you on a trip again,” Stephen retorts, his teeth chattering audibly as well.

“Unbelievable. You're lucky I was here to stop them from eating you,” Tony reminds him.

“Sadly, this isn't even the first time that happened,” Stephen murmurs. He sounds like he’s drifting off to sleep or unconsciousness.

“You being eaten alive?” Tony tries to prompt Stephen back into talking. All he receives in return is a jerky nod of Stephen’s head.

There’s a pause and then Tony breathes out, “Of course, it isn't. Is there anything awful that hasn't happened to you yet?”

Stephen seems to mull that over in his head, his teeth chattering out an unsteady rhythm into the silence. “I've never been sawn apart by a chainsaw,” he settles on finally.

Tony struggles to find words to express how he feels about that comment. “Wow. Does that have anything to do with the rest of the universe not having any?”

“Possibly.”

Tony shakes his head resignedly. He can’t feel his legs but looking down, he can see that they’re only pressed together with their upper bodies. “Come on, closer, if you don't want to freeze to death,” he murmurs, nudging Stephen in the back to prompt him to move.

Stephen scrunches his nose. “No, it's quite unpleasant,” he answers, helping as best as he can manage to press their bodies closer together.

Tony rolls his eyes and tightens his stiff arms around Stephen’s torso, burying his face into the sorcerer’s neck. “How are you doing?”

“Well, I'm not bleeding out anymore,” Stephen answers, and wow, are those the standards they’ve reached now?

Tony can’t stop the sigh from escaping him. “Good, that's something,” he replies nevertheless. He’s jostled out of his position by Stephen trying to move his arm away from his chest, bringing his hands up to squeeze them under his armpits.

“What are you doing?” Tony asks confused, refusing to move his arm.

“'M cold,” Stephen replies, followed by an acerbic, “You don’t say,” from Tony.

Stephen accidentally elbows Tony in the stomach in the process of shifting his arms.

“What... hey! Stop,” Tony complains. “What 's wrong?”

“Hands,” Stephen presses forth, the chattering suppressed by how strongly he clenches his teeth together against the pain.

“Do they get worse with the cold?”

“Yeah.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. They need to warm those hands before they become completely unusable. But their skin is cold as ice and so is the cloak. Tony settles on a weird idea and hopes that Wong will be here soon. “Okay. Fuck this. Turn around.”

Stephen frowns into the bark of the tree staring back at him. “Why?”

“Just fucking once do what I tell you!” Tony exclaims. His patience with Stephen’s antics has worn thin over the last weeks and the anger he felt when he confronted Stephen after the meeting comes rushing back to him. Good. His rage warms him and will keep him awake longer.

Stephen sighs before he starts to turn around, aided by Tony’s hands tugging impatiently on his shoulders. Tony scoots closer again once Stephen is facing him and cradles one hand in his own, holding it close to his chest. He pulls the other one towards his mouth and takes three of Stephen’s fingers into it, sucking them deeper into the wet cavity and lapping at them with his tongue.

“What-” Stephen’s sentence quickly trails of as he groans in relief. This does feel much better. “That's unconventional,” he murmurs, staring at Tony’s turned blue lips closed around his aching digits.

Tony pops Stephen’s hand free from his mouth to reply, “Shut up. No, better yet: Perfect time to tell me why you've been avoiding me.” Once he’s finished speaking, he sucks Stephen’s fingers back into his mouth.

Stephen stays silent. He’d dreaded that this topic might come up while they’re still in this dimension, however the risk of going alone had outweighed his discomfort of having this conversation with Tony. And yet, faced with Tony’s question, his brown eyes trained firmly on Stephen’s, he can’t seem to make his mouth work. He’s teetering so dangerously close to the edge already; he felt the effects of it after they had sex and again earlier in the cave. If he pushes just a little bit too far, he’ll topple himself into a never-ending stream of darkness. And that will have been the end of the Sorcerer Supreme. Stephen grits his teeth.

When the silence stretches on for too long, Tony speaks indistinctly around his fingers, “You came to me.”

Stephen sighs. Really, what is there to say to that? It was his decision to barge into Tony’s lab and start stripping his clothes. “I-I... I didn't expect you to react as you did.”

Tony frowns and carefully pulls Stephen’s fingers from his mouth. “You never said no,” he murmurs, staring at Stephen with furrowed brows. After another moment of silence, he sucks Stephen’s other fingers into his mouth, shielding the now wet digits from the cold with his hand as much as he can.

Stephen huffs and stares at his other hand, cradled close to Tony’s chest. After a moment he decides to tell the truth. “I thought it would be like last time.”

Tony’s eyebrows draw up in surprise and he lets Stephen’s fingers slip from his mouth again with an audible pop. “Last time?”

“Please go back to that,” Stephen murmurs, looking back up at Tony’s face as soon as his fingers have slipped free.

The frown stretches even deeper over Tony’s face, but he complies with Stephen’s request nonetheless.

Stephen takes a moment to sort the thoughts and words in his head before he starts talking. “It happened before, in another timeline. It's what I remembered when we came back and that song played. But there you didn't... you didn't _do_ anything; you just enjoyed the show and afterwards nothing changed.”

“Doesn't sound like me,” Tony mumbles.

“We had just departed from earth and-” Stephen trails off again, lost in thoughts of that timeline, unsure how much he should actually disclose to Tony.

When Tony shoots him an inquisitive look, Stephen sighs and continues his explanation. “It took us four years to finally get back there, all that time you wanted to get back to Pepper, but... When we arrived, she'd moved on and you chose to stay with me to help protect the stone. You weren't quite yourself for a while, so I tried to lift your mood.” Stephen pauses for a moment and when Tony doesn’t reply he adds, “Grumpy you is insufferable.”

Tony contemplates it for a moment longer before he speaks up again. “Okay, but still. I would have stopped at any time if I knew you didn't want...” He trails off, frustrated with himself. He had been a playboy once and sex would probably always feel natural to him, but Tony had never and would never do something he thought his partner wasn’t okay with. “You didn't say anything,” he repeats his words from earlier, desperate brown eyes trained on blue ones. He needs to be sure that he hasn’t violated Stephen in some way. He couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

“I didn't really want you to stop,” Stephen assures him. “I wanted...” Stephen huffs and lowers his eyes again. There’s just one word for what he wanted in that moment. “You.”

Tony’s frustration is visible in his wrinkled face as he stares uncomprehendingly at Stephen. “Then I don't get where the problem is. Did you change your mind? Why-”

Stephen interrupts him before Ton can get any further away from the truth. “No! I want you, I just-” Stephen whimpers, he can feel the weight stacking back onto his soul, can feel himself careening towards that edge that he can’t cross over. He buries his head into Tony’s neck to keep himself from saying anything more.

“Hey, just tell me. Come on, use your words,” Tony pushes impatiently, trying to be gentle with Stephen but also not accepting no for an answer this time. He deserves to know why Stephen started ghosting him like that.

“Can we please do this once we're back?” Stephen murmurs into the hollow of Tony’s neck, tears already burning the inside of his eyes.

“No, because you'll run off again. Just say it, Steph,” Tony presses.

Stephen knows that he won’t get out of this without giving Tony at least some fraction of the truth. He takes in a deep breath, the cold air hurting his lungs as he sucks it in. “It hurt,” he whispers and a small part of him hopes Tony hasn’t heard him.

“What hurt? The memories? Did-Did I hurt you?” Tony can feel blood rushing to his head at the possibility. Hurting Stephen had been furthest from what he’d wanted to do. He actually wanted to smash the face of anyone in who ever dared to hurt this man again.

“No, I... Wong warned me that this might happen, but I didn't believe it was possible,” Stephen rushes out and then there’s no stopping him, he can’t stop the words spilling from his mouth. Pushing Tony away again and again and again, it’s too hard. He can’t keep doing it, he needs Tony to know what happened, needs him to understand. “When you bumped your knee, I could feel it. I could feel and sense everything. Everything just came rushing back but you didn't take anything. It felt like a second person was crammed into me and I just couldn't, I couldn't-” Stephen gasps, unable to suck in enough air, feeling like he’s suffocating.

“Woah, hey, hey! Slow down, sssh. Babe, you're not making any sense,” Tony tries to slow Stephen down, however the nickname just makes the other man whimper miserably into his neck. Tony moves one of his hands to rub up and down Stephen’s arm, trying to get him to slow down again, be clearer. “What came rushing back? What do you mean?”

“You!” Stephen exclaims, and it’s filled with so much pain and sorrow that Tony flinches. Stephen starts to shiver harder than from the cold before and tears are sliding down his cheeks, however they’re red. Blood is seeping from Stephen’s eyes as they roll back and Tony wants to cradle him closer, make his pain stop, help him. He just has no idea what is happening, no idea what he could do to help, and he can barely move his own limbs anymore.

“Stephen? Stephen! You need to hold on,” Tony begs, panic rising in him and constricting his voice. What did he just do? “Please just hold on.” He can feel tears sliding down his own cheeks, freezing in the frosty air around them.

Tony almost doesn’t hear the sound of the portal opening behind him and suddenly two strong arms are hauling him up and dragging him away from Stephen. “No!” Tony exclaims, he starts to kick and fight but his body won’t cooperate, he can’t help but be dragged away from the spasming body of the sorcerer still lying in the snow. Once Wong has lifted him into the portal he turns back around for Stephen and hauls him over his shoulder. The moment they’re both through Wong collapses the portal behind him and opens another one. He’s met with arms accepting Stephen’s convulsing form, pulling him through the portal and into the infirmary of Kamar-Taj.

Tony tries to get his arms and legs to work, manages to push himself onto his elbows when he sees Wong collapsing the portal. “No!” Tony screams, eyes torn open wide, gaping at Wong. “He’s injured, I need to help him! Open the portal back up!”

Instead of doing that, Wong lifts Tony over his shoulder and carries him out of the room, along the corridor and into another room. There he lays a still screaming Tony who weakly pounds his fists against Wong’s back down on the floor. Wong ignites the fireplace with a quick flick of his wrist and leaves Tony alone, only to come back seconds later with blankets which he wraps around the billionaire’s bare body.

Tony’s teeth are still chattering as he hisses at Wong. He remembers something about Wong warning Stephen of something and that’s all that registers in his clouded brain at that moment. “You know what’s wrong with him! Let me help him. Tell me how to help him!” Tony is somewhere between screaming and begging but he doesn’t care. Stephen is dying. He doesn’t know magic but he’s sure of that.

This time however, Wong isn’t stoic, he seems to be just as angry as Tony. “He brought this upon himself!” he snaps. “If he has any chance of still surviving this it’s with you as far away from him as possible.”

Tony’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest, he feels sick because he hates Wong in this moment, but he sees that he’s telling the truth. Whatever is wrong with Stephen, it’s Tony’s fault. Tears are streaming across his face as Tony begs with a breaking voice, “Why?”

Wong closes his eyes briefly. When he looks at Tony Stark, he sees a broken man. Stephen is his friend, but he can’t keep his secret when it means that it will destroy Tony. He takes a deep breath and then lets himself sink to the ground beside Tony.

“Stephen created a soul bond. Accidentally, in one of those futures he lived through on Titan. A soul bond is a very powerful connection. It means that your souls and your minds become one. You’re still individual people but it’s an irreversible connection. You can hear each other’s thoughts, feel each other’s feelings, all of them. Joy, pain, love. It’s a spiritual thing. The last memory you saw when he was infected with that parasite was from that timeline. When Thanos killed you, your death ripped his soul from his body. It’s like death, but- More painful.” Wong takes a short break to check that Tony is still following him. The genius is quiet now, shivering in front of the fireplace, his gaze completely focused on Wong.

“As you know, the time stone reverses all of the physical effects, however, just like the memories, the spiritual effects of those timelines remain. The soul bond apparently dulled over the course of the next few thousand timelines Stephen experienced, but it never completely disappeared. I told him that he shouldn’t get this close to you, but he didn’t listen. Stephen’s soul is trying to restore that bond, trying to absorb all of you into it, however your soul was never bonded in this timeline. Your soul is free, it won’t take any of the strain of that bond. So, Stephen’s body is overwhelmed by it, it’s too much to handle.”

Tony stares at Wong with bleary eyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this terrible. He loves that stupid, self-sacrificing sorcerer and yet that’s exactly what’s killing him. Because he got too close to Stephen. “What-” Tony swallows nervously. He’d already made peace with death when he’d agreed to fight Thanos on Titan instead of turning back to earth. Hell, he’d actually made his peace with dying when he’d flown that nuke into the wormhole. “What if my soul didn’t exist anymore?”

Wong looks at him like he’s crazy. Maybe it is crazy, but Tony can’t take it. This can’t be how Stephen dies, he still deserves so much more, he needs to live. “The bond has already reestablished too strongly. If you died now, I am certain so would Stephen.”

“Then what can I do,” Tony begs desperately, finally managing to shift up to his knees. He falls forward, hands gripping Wong’s shoulders as strongly as he can. “I must be able to do something if I’m the cause of it. How can you make my soul take part of that strain?”

Wong looks at him sternly, like he’s explaining something to a small child. “You don’t know what that implies, Stark. A soul bond isn’t a thing you just decide to establish. It can never be taken back; it would kill whichever one of you doesn’t die first. You wouldn’t have any privacy anymore, any thought, any feeling you had would be shared, there’s-”

“I don’t care!” Tony yells at Wong, shaking him in the process. “Stephen is dying! He saved everyone, he suffered through so much and you’re just going to let him die because you don’t think I know what I’m getting into. Without him half of the universe wouldn’t exist anymore! You need to let me help him!”

“Even if you were okay with this,” Wong begins, trying to keep calm in the face of Tony’s rage, “it doesn’t mean that Stephen would be. It’s not just you that’s going to be affected by this. I can’t just do this without his consent.”

“You’d rather let him die?” Tony asks incredulously.

“I’d rather give him a chance to survive,” Wong counters.

Tony steels himself. He is going to go all in, screw the consequences. “Stephen and I, we were in love in several hundred of those futures he saw. He trusted me to help him keep that infinity stone save. He is the one who created that soul bond between us, do you really think he’d prefer death over having this back?”

Tony can see in Wong’s face that his resolve is crumbling. He just needs one final push. Tony takes a deep breath, hoping that he is placing his bet on the right words now.

“I know that you talked to him about this bond situation. Did he say that he regretted it, that if he could he would go back and reverse it?”

Wong seems to be in search of words to keep Tony off track. “He can’t con-”

“Did he say that or did he not?!” Tony interrupts him fiercely.

He sees the exact moment when Wong gives in. It’s followed by a deep breath and then he gets up, extending his arms to pull Tony up as well. As soon as they both stand, Wong draws a portal into the air into that exact room, where Tony had seen Stephen disappear into earlier. There is hectic in that room, a sort of panic, and when Tony jumps through the portal he can see Stephen lying on the bed, surrounded by orange Mandalas that don’t manage to make him better. His face is full of blood, dripping out of his eyes, nose and ears. Tony extends his arm back into the portal to drag Wong through it by the lapels of his tunic. “Do it right now,” he spits.

Christ, they’ve wasted so much time arguing. They can’t delay this any longer. When Wong looks at the bed, he shakes his head, taking a step back. “He’s so far gone. If I try this, I might just kill both of you.”

Tony’s patience has run out now. He doesn’t have a suit, but he doesn’t care. He takes a swing with his right arm and hits Wong square in the face. Everyone seems to stop what they’ve been doing, looking at the two men in shock, uncertain what to do. “Do. It. _Now!_ ” Tony demands.

Wong gets back up and throws one last look at Tony before he shoves him down to sit on the bed next to Stephen. Wong steps in front of them, drawing complicated Mandalas into the air. He hisses something at the other sorcerers in the room, that sounds like the name of a book or maybe a spell. They immediately spring into action and start drawing more runes into the air before all of them merge into the one Wong had started. Then he hurls it at Tony, much like Stephen had hurled that explosion spell at the artifact earlier. He fells it hit him, feels it knock the air out of his lungs and feels like he’s unable to draw in a new breath to replace the expelled oxygen. Before he’s fully aware of everything around him, he starts to black out.

Everything hurts. Stephen wants to go back to sleep, just never wake up again. He feels like someone’s laughing at him, but he can’t hear anything. He groans before opening his eyes. He’s in Kamar-Taj. The evening light is streaming in through a window above him. “Hey there,” he hears someone say. He turns his head to find brown eyes smiling down at him from a chair next to his bed. He tries to sit up, but the pain gets even worse and a tanned arm shoots out to immediately push him back down into the mattress.

“Did you try to kill me after all?” Stephen asks. His voice his rough and sounds terrible even to his own ears. His throat is dry and feels like it’s set afire just by uttering that one sentence.

“Stop talking, babe,” Tony murmurs, before extending a glass with a straw in it towards Stephen’s mouth. The sorcerer gratefully accepts the water.

“What happened?” he asks. He feels a wave of irritation that isn’t his own wash over him. He almost doesn’t hear Tony’s answer over the rushing in his ears.

“You don’t remember?”

Stephen’s eyes are wide as he stares at Tony. He needs confirmation. _What did you do?_

“You were dying, okay? You stubborn asshole didn’t tell me what was going on, so I almost lost you.” He can feel Tony’s pain, his lingering fear. “You have every right to be angry at me for doing this against your will, but you were dying! It was this or death, permanently. So, you’ll just have to put up with me,” Tony babbles on nervously and Stephen can feel the racing of Tony’s heart reverberate in his own chest.

He laughs and then he’s reaching out, pulling Tony in by his neck and locking their lips together. He doesn’t care about the pain that move causes; he needs this right now. Tony melts into the kiss and Stephen licks into his mouth. He grins when Tony gasps, remembering exactly what that felt like the first time. Sharing a kiss with the sensations of both of them. When he lets go of Tony, he backs off a little, staring into stunned brown eyes.

“You’re not mad?” Tony asks. Despite the tirade he’d bestowed upon Wong, he didn’t actually think this was what Stephen wanted. He hadn’t allowed himself to hope that Stephen might be okay with this while he was still unconscious. Tony couldn’t be that lucky right?

Stephen just grins at him and closes his eyes. He lets his emotions run free. For the first time since Tony had ripped his soul out, he doesn’t suppress the intensity of all of his emotions. All of the love, all of the longing, all of the happiness he felt around Tony.

“Jesus!” Tony exclaims, hand gripping his shirt above his heart. “Warn a guy, Strange!” When faced with Stephen laughing in his face, Tony doesn’t care that he can feel the pain that causes Stephen, he just cares about the warmth that has exploded inside of him. It’s so overwhelming he thinks he might forget how to breathe.

Stephen intertwines his hand with Tony’s and suddenly it’s easy again, like that’s all that was missing for Tony to function properly. “I didn’t think I’d ever have this again,” Stephen murmurs and the emotion in his voice is nothing compared to the whirlwind that crashes into Tony. He doesn’t know what to say to that load of feelings, more intense than he’d thought possible. He just smiles helplessly at the beaten-up sorcerer lying in the bed in front of him.

“This is going much better than the first time,” Stephen says with a wry smile and Tony feels Stephen’s happiness echo through himself.

“What do you mean?” Tony asks, brows drawing together in confusion.

Stephen looks away sheepishly before he admits, “We kind of hated each other when this happened.”

Tony’s brows draw up in surprise. When Stephen winces slightly, Tony can suddenly see the memory that flashes before Stephen’s inner eye.

_“You asshole!”_

_Stephen’s collar is grabbed by Tony’s hands and then he finds himself being shoved back into the wall, head connecting painfully with the metal. There’s a gauntlet forming on Tony’s hand and before he can ask him to stop, the suit’s knuckles connect with Stephen’s cheek. The force of the blow makes him hurtle to the ground, and he instinctively moves his arms out to catch himself. The moment the pain of his hands catching his weight shoots up his arms, Tony screams in pain and sinks to his knees as well._

_They are both doubled over on the floor, panting. Stephen’s cheek is bleeding from the blow of Tony’s fist, and Tony cradles his own cheek with a sour glare directed at Stephen._

“What the fuck,” Tony breathes out. Stephen is watching him warily.

“Just to be clear, this time it’s on you,” he murmurs, drawing his hands up in surrender as if he expects Tony to hit him again in this timeline.

Tony can already feel a headache coming on. This isn’t how he expected it would go. He frowns as he stretches his hands and forms fists several times. He’s felt it since he woke up, but it’s gotten progressively worse since Stephen woke up. “Is it always like this?” he asks Stephen, staring up into his blue eyes.

Stephen sighs as he drops his hands back to the mattress, carefully trying to relax them so the pain isn’t that bad. “Yeah. Not unlike the reactor in your chest. It’s better sometimes and worse others.”

“You can feel that?” Tony asks in surprise. When Wong had said they would feel each other’s pain, he hadn’t thought about the pain both of them suffered from their permanent injuries. Since his surgery, the pain in Tony’s chest is mostly phantom pain from when he still had the reactor embedded in his chest.

“Yes,” Stephen answers, but Tony can hear the unspoken thoughts as well. _I’m already used to it._

Tony tiredly rubs his eyes. In hindsight, he might have thought this through better. He’d been so desperate when Stephen was dying, he hadn’t even let himself consider what Wong had said. And honestly, it still didn’t matter whether he liked this or not. Stephen was alive, that’s all that was important.

“It does matter,” Stephen murmurs, carefully shifting his hand to lay on top of Tony’s. Tony can’t help but glare up at him. _Stop reading my thoughts!_

 _Stop thinking so loud then._ Stephen’s answer ghosts through his head and he’s met with an equal glare from blue eyes.

“This isn’t going to go smoothly, is it?” Tony asks with a resigned sigh.

“We did manage eventually last time,” Stephen retorts. Tony stares at him disbelievingly.

“What does eventually mean?”

_Calm down. The sex makes up for it._

Despite the dread in his stomach Tony has to laugh at that. _I’m looking forward to it._ He sighs and gets up from the chair. “Scoot,” he murmurs, pointing at Stephen. The sorcerer scoots toward the far end of the twin bed he’s laying on, making Tony wince with the pain that causes both of them. He’ll just have to get used to that now. He lies down next to Stephen and rests his head on the sorcerer’s chest. “Let’s just rest and not get up for a week,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, let’s,” Stephen retorts. _Unlikely._

_Shut up._

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are much appreciated <3


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